Nothing Without You
by GLITTERXGURL
Summary: after tragic news, Claire Lyons has to learn to move on with her life. "That's the thing about life -it goes on."
1. Chapter 1

_September._

I want to say that there were grey skies and bitter winds the day that Cam Fisher told me he had cancer. But really, it was bright sunshine, with birds chirping and people whistling and the poodles from next door doing whatever it is that they do.

It was supposed to be a good day. Me and my best friend tanning poolside, drinking root beer, talking about the start of eleventh grade. But instead, Cam showed up and uttered those three words, and my heart shattered, my world shattered, and my fucking soul probably even shattered.

"Claire?"

"Hmm?"

"I have cancer."

And that was that. It was said. My best friend was sick. Not sick, sick meant you could get better. My best friend was dying.

They said six months. That's all it would take. I only had six months left with my best friend, with the only person in the entire world -no, the entire fucking universe- who I loved completely.

And those six months aren't enough.

* * *

"Miss Lyons," Mr. Gregory, my socials teacher, knocks my textbook off my desk, waking me up.

"Yes?" I try to blink the sleep out of my eyes and act like I'd actually spent the last forty-five minutes writing notes instead of snoring.

"I'm so sorry to wake you," he purses his lips at me, "But I was wondering if you could answer my question."

I stare down at my desk, since it's obvious I have no idea what he just asked, let alone the answer.

"I can tell you, Mr Gregory!" Massie Block raises her hand. Suck up.

"That won't be neccesary, Miss Block," Mr Gregory says. "But Miss Lyons, this is only the second week of school -give your head a shake and get ready to settle down. Summer is over."

Of course it is. Gone along with summer are my restful nights, my best friend and any sense of normality in my world.

The Fishers haven't made it public yet. All of the teachers know, but no one else. Sometime soon, I'm sure. Maybe they don't believe it yet. I don't.

My days at school are lonely. Its only the second week and I already want to be home-schooled. All my life, it was me and Cam, Cam and me. We had each other, we didn't need anybody else. I _had_ no one else.

I eat my lunch alone, at a table in the back of the cafeteria. Massie Block and her dumb friends whisper and stare at me. I'm sure everyone wonders where Cam is -everyone _likes _Cam. Star of the soccer team, A+ student, all around golden boy. I've always wondered why Cam's my best friend. He has his pick of the entire school -everyone worships him. And yet, he picked me.

Back in first grade, Massie Block had told everyone I had cooties, and Massie Block's word was the law, so that was that -I was alone. Then Cam came along, beautiful, brilliant Cam, and he ignored Massie Block's warnings and sat with me at lunch.

We'd been inseperable ever since. And to this day I still don't know why he sat with me. I feel a fresh rush of tears threaten to spill out of my eyes when I realize I'd better ask Cam these questions I have _now_ -while I still can.

I leave my tray at the table and disappear into the handicapped bathroom because I know it'll be free of girls fixing their hair or applying their millionth coat of lipgloss. I dial Cam's number, a number I know as well as my own, and breathe a sigh of relief when he picks up.

"Hey," Cam says warmly, as if this is just a normal phone call and things are normal and he's not sick.

"Hi," I manage, squeezing my eyes shut.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I lie. "Just...wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh," Cam says. "How's school going? I started that French assignment and it makes no sense. Wanna come help me after school?"

I want to ask him why on earth he's doing a stupid French assignment or any of his fucking schoolwork for that matter, since he won't even be alive to finish eleventh grade. "You know I have no where else to be," I tell him. "Or anywhere else I'd _want _to be."

"Ask Harris to drive you," he encourages. "He said he'd come over too."

"I'm not asking your older brother," I tell him. "I've talked to him maybe twice in my entire life and I'm not walking up to him in the middle of school, when he's surrounded by al of his hockey friends."

Cam laughs. "They're not that bad." The bell rings, and Cam asks me "Is that the bell I just heard? You'd better go."

"I don't want to," I whisper. I don't want to hang up or say goodbye because every time I do, I'm terrified it could be forever.

"Claire, go. You have Bio."

I try to laugh. "Since when is Bio more important than my best friend?"

"Yale, remember?" Cam names my dream school. "That's the dream."

"Yeah," I tell him. "I'll see you in a few hours. I love you."

I hangup, and resist the urge to flush my phone down the toilet. That's _not _the dream, the dream was for us to go to Yale _together_.

* * *

I arrive at the hospital an hour after school, and awkwardly board the elevator to Cam's eighth-floor room. The oncology ward scares me. The whole hospital scares me. I don't know why Cam refused to be put in the Children's ward.

I knock lightly on the half-closed door. Cam has a roommate, one I've never seen even though I spend ninety-eight percent of my time here. Cam is lying in bed, eyes glued to the TV screen hanging on the wall. Harris is sitting in an armchair beside the bed.

"Claire!" Cam's eyes light up when I walk into the room, and I can't hold back my grin.

"I didn't know you were coming," Harris mumbles awkwardly. "I could've, uh, given you a ride."

Harris is in grade twelve and wildly popular. He has the same goodlooks as Cam, but lacks Cam's different coloured eyes. Instead, both of his eyes are green, which is my favourite of Cam's eyes.

"It's okay," I sit on the chair on the other side of the bed. "I like walking." It clears my head. "I brought my French notes for you," I hand over my binder.

"Oh, great! Thanks, I-" he breaks off as a nurse walks in. She smiles warmly at me, but grin widens when she sees Harris.

"Oh, hello! You're Cam's brother right?"

"I am," Harris nods. Cam rolls his eyes at me and I snicker. Typical.

Cam and I talk for a bit. I try to pretend we're lying in my backyard by the pool. Try, but don't succeed. Harris leaves, and then it's just me and Cam, Cam and me, the way things have always been.

"Come lie with me," he scooches over in his tiny bed, and I giggle as I squish in beside him. It's so familiar, the warmth of his body, the spicy cologne. "Visiting hours are almost over."

"I should be an exception," I decide. "They should let me come over whenever."

"You can always call whenever," he shifts so that my head falls onto his shoulder. I burrow into his warm, strong side. Cam and I had never really been romantically into each other, but we cuddled. He'd never had any real girlfriends, I'd never had any boyfriends, and now I wonder if maybe we would've eventually been into each other.

"You need your rest too," I tell him.

"Yeah, but I'd drop anything for you."

I smile and sigh and bite my lip to avoid crying. I don't want to cry in front of Cam. If I'm scared, he must be even more scared.

* * *

When I get home at ten-thirty, mom's sitting in the living room, arm's crossed. I think she's frowning, but it's always hard to tell with the Botox. "Where were you?" she demands the second I'm in the door. I kick off my shoes and drop my backpack. "You know your curfew is ten on school nights. Why weren't you answering your phone?"

"Where do you think I was?!" I dig my nails into my palm to keep from yelling at her.

"Oh," mom's eyes soften, but the rest of her face stays frozen. "I...how is Cam?"

"Dying," I say as I begin to walk up the stairs. "It doesn't matter how many times you ask, mom, he'll always be dying."


	2. Chapter 2

this was just sitting, finished, waiting for me to post it soo enjoy.

* * *

A week later, the news is out. Dad tries unsuccessfully to hide the newspaper from me, but I see it anyway. Front page is hard to miss. The Fishers are a well loved family in Westchester, the newspaper probably thought they were doing a nice thing by writing a piece on Cam. But it felt like a slap in the face to me.

"Would you like some tea?" Missy, our housekeeper, asks me. I shake my head. School was hard enough when no one knew. But now that everyone does...

"Mom?" I ask. "Could I just...stay home today?"

"Claire," mom puts down her tea cup. "You want to get into a good university, don't you? Schools start looking into people junior year. You're already behind in a few assignments. Does Yale mean nothing to you now?"

My dad shoots her a stern look, and I shove my plate away. "Never mind. School is better than being here anyway. At least at school I'm not stuck with you." Before she replies, I slam the door shut and begin walking to school.

Mom doesn't fucking get it. The teachers at school don't get it. Massie Block and her stupid wannabes don't get it. Fuck, even Cam doesn't get it. None of them have ever had to wake up every day, knowing it could be your last day with your best friend.

A car slows down beside me. Harris Fisher sticks his head out the window. "Thought that was you," he mumbles. "Want, um, a ride?"

"Thanks," I say, because its getting closer to October and mornings are getting chillier.

"So...how's...eleventh grade?"

"Great."

"Great."

"How's grade twelve?"

"Good," Harris mumbles. Harris, like Cam, is super popular. Unlike Cam though, he uses it. Guys high five him in the hallways, girls throw themselves at his feet. He's captain of the hockey team, throws wild parties and has gone through a slew of girlfriends. "I...uh...sorry, I'm not, ya know, good at..keeping conversations."

"We don't have to make small talk," I tell him. "Thank you for the ride."

We drive the rest of the way in silence. Massie Block and her gang of wannabes are standing outside as we pull into the Briarwood parking lot. Massie's glossy mouth pops open and she elbows her friends. They all stare as Harris parks. "If you're, uh, going to the hospital this afternoon, I can give you a ride.." he trails off and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Thanks."

"Be here at three forty-five," he says instead of goodbye, and disappears into his group of friends.

"Claire!" Kristen Gregory from history runs up to me. "I'm so sorry to hear about Cam! I know you guys are best friends. I'm getting the history class to sign a card, do you want to deliver it with me?"

I stare at her for a second. "A card's not going to make him better. I'll pass, thanks." I push past her and continue walking to my locker. Okay, that was mean. Its the thought that counts. And Cam -good old, nice guy Cam- will appreciate it and thank Kristen profoundly and tell her some lame compliment about how he'd always admired her handwriting and she'll smile and laugh because that's just what people do around Cam.

I rest my head against my cool locker. Rest isn't the right word. It slams into my locker with a force that makes my head pound even harder.

"Whoa," the guy next to my locker, Derrick Harrington, looks up at me.

I ignore him and decide to keep my forehead pressed against the locker. It's nice actually. Cool. Smooth. The view's nice -I mean, who doesn't like navy blue metal? Derrick looks at me. "Claire, right? You okay?"

"Peachy," I finally take my head off the locker and open it. I scan my schedule. Photo. Great. A class with Massie Block.

"You sure? You're forehead's kinda red."

"And you need a haircut," I slam my locker shut. "Nice speaking to you, Derrick."

* * *

I should've skipped photo. Massie Block loudly snaps her gum while Mr Whitely goes on and on about our dumb assignment. Is it even safe to chew gum in a photo lab? Probably not. Oh well. I'm not going to fucking tell her that her gum's absorbing chemicals.

After Mr Whitely dismisses us to take our photos, he pulls me aside. "I'm sorry to hear about Cameron, Claire. Please, give the Fishers my condolences."

"I will." I say, already sick of the conversations I'll have like this one.

"I...I hope you're doing alright."

"I'm great," I tell him. "Excuse me, I have to start my assignment."

"Of course," Mr Whitely looks at me with pity in his eyes. Fuck him and his stupid pity. My best friend is dying. People die everday. Go talk to them. Go look at them and thank god it's them that's going through it, not you.

"Kuh-laire," Massie Block's stupid nasal voice says. "Wait up."

I don't wait up. I don't want to hear another 'I'm sorry' conversation, especially not from Massie fucking Block.

"Are you _deaf_?!" She unfortnately catches up to me. "So do you and Harris Fisher have a thing?! I saw you guys in the car together this morning -did you spend the night at his place?!" Her eyes light up with the idea of getting fresh gossip.

My hand itches to slap her. Don'tdoitdon'tdoitdon'tdoit. "Fuck yourself, Massie," is what I say instead.

Her mouth drops open. "_Excuse _me?!"

"Are you _deaf_?!" I repeat her words. "Fuck you."

And then as a nice fuck you to this entire school, I decide to leave the photo room and take the rest of the day off.

* * *

"Claire!" Mrs Fisher looks surprised to see me. Why shouldn't she be? It's eleven am on a Wednesday and nice girls would be in school right now. "I...what are you doing here?"

I haven't seen her in a while, and she looks old. Old and tired. "Could I come in?"

"Yes, honey, of course," she takes my jacket from me as I step inside the house. The Fisher house has always been more of a home to me than my own house. Mrs Fisher is a stay at home mom, they have no housekeeper, and Mr Fisher is _always _home for dinner. They never miss a soccer or hockey game and they show up to my volleyball games, even though my own parents don't.

The house smells like oranges and cinnomon, the way it always does in the fall and winter months. I wonder if it's lonely without Cam in the house. It's probably easy for Mrs Fisher, only having to pick up after one teenage boy, not two.

"Would you like some hot chocolate, dear?" She asks me.

"I'd love some, thanks. It's getting cold out there already. Think it'll be a cold winter?"

She laughs as she boils the water for my hot chocolate. "You know you'd have to ask Richard, our wannabe weatherman." Richard, Mr Fisher, is an accountant. In his head, he's a weatherman. And oddly enough, his predictions are always right. That's one of my favourite things about the Fisher family -they say things you can trust. Reliable.

"I was going to go see Cam," she says as she hands me a steaming mug. "Would you like to come?"

I would like to see him, but I don't want to crowd them. Mrs Fisher deserves every minute alone with her son. "Could I just stay here?"

"You're always welcome here, Claire," Mrs Fisher smooths back an unruly curl that's escaped my ponytail. "But it's not good to be skipping school. You know that."

"I hate it," I whisper, eyes glued to the wooden table.

"Yale won't want you with that attitude," Mrs Fisher squeezes my arm. "Where's that happy girl who used to hang around here all the time?"

I stare into her sad but warm blue eyes. I don't have the heart to tell her that that Claire is gone, long gone, because Cam was the reason I was happy. And soon, Cam will be gone too.

* * *

Mrs Fisher sets me up on the worn out leather couch with a soft blanket and the TV remote. I'll probably be home in two hours or so, if you're still here, I'll take you out for a late lunch, alright? Bye honey," she kisses my forehead.

I lie on their couch, drinking hot chocolate, like I have so many times before. The house feels empty, and it's not just because I'm alone in it.

After an hour of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, my legs need to move. I get up and look at their annual family photo, taken every year before Christmas. They're lined up in frames on the walls. I smile at the one with me in it, last year's, wearing the same black turtleneck as everyone else, but standing out because of my blonde hair. The rest of the family has suck dark hair. My parents went to Aruba for Christmas and didn't bring me, and when Mrs Fisher heard about it, she insisted I spend all of my time with them, doing silly Christmas activities.

"You're _family_, Claire," Cam had laughed when I refused to intrude on their family photo. "Just get in the damn picture."

I decide to pick up a few knick knacks from Cam's room to make his hospital room feel a little homier. His room has always been my favourite place to hangout -its warm from the heat that comes off his Xbox, and he has those typical plaid flannel sheets that are so warm and soft. I'd once tried to buy some for my own room, but mom refused. An entire wall is filled up with pictures and posters. Most of the pictures are of the two of us. I take a few down to bring to the hospital, like the one of me and Cam on Mr Fisher's yacht two summers ago, and the one of me and Cam on Halloween when were eight when we went as pie-rats (rats dressed in pirate costumes with an eye patch decorated to look like a pie -I don't even get the costume, but Cam came up with it so of course we went with).

There's solo pictures of me hung up, all ugly selfies I send to Cam. I giggle and take a new selfie on my phone beside his framed soccer picture, so it looks like we're together. I sent it along with a BBM that says "hi i'm in your room, bye."

I grab his poster of Megan Fox, a few more pictures, and his soccer medal and tuck them safely into my purse. Then I scribble a quick thank you note to Mrs Fisher and leave it on the kitchen table. Maybe I'll go get a coffee or something. But then the memory of that time Cam and I were in Maine while my dad sealed a business deal there, and we secretly took a Greyhound across the boarder to try Tim Horton's in Canada hits me hard.

Maybe I won't go get a coffee after all.

* * *

After two hours, Cam still hasn't replied to my picture and I'm aimlessly wandering around downtown. I decide to text him again. I send him **you still haven't replied to my selfie so i'm assuming my ugliness caused you to pass out** -something that'll make him laugh and makes me laugh even though I have a slight uneasiness. Cam always replies to my texts.

"Claire?"

I turn around to see Derrick Harrington -the locker neighbour- walking up behind me. "What are you doing downtown? Shouldn't you be in school?"

"Shouldn't you be in school too?"

"Dentist," he nods towards the dentist office across the street. "Do you have a free block?"

"No," I look down at my feet. "Just...didn't feel like being there."

"Tell me about it," Derrick rolls his eyes. "I told the office I had to leave an hour sooner than I was supposed to...do you wanna get something to eat or something?"

"No thanks," I shake my head. "I'll see you later."

"Do you hate me or something?" Derrick starts walking beside me.

"I hardly know you."

"So are you this unfriendly to everyone?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh," he hesitates. "I lost my cousin, you know. He was my best friend. Drunk driver hit him one night. I know all of these condolences sound like bullshit and get really annoying but...being nice to people makes you start to feel better."

"Thanks for your imput," I tell him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I-"

"Oh look, here's a little cafe," he pushes me through the door. "Have a coffee with me, my treat."

"You're pretty damn persistent," I mutter but sit down at a corner table with him anyway.

We drink our coffees and don't talk and I don't want to tell Derrick, but it is kind of nice just sitting with someone. Like with Mrs Fisher this morning. I'm lonely without spending every minute with Cam.

My phone buzzes and Cam replies to my text. **get out of my room creep. and that selfie was brutal but don't worry, i haven't kicked the bucket yet. first round of chemo though.**

Without any warning, I start crying. Cam...although being in a hospital, he never seemed sick.

"Are you okay?!" Derrick looks alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"I have to go," I get up and grab my purse. "Thank you for coffee, have fun at the dentist."

I'm pretty sure I run the entire way to the hospital, but I'm not totally sure. Can you black out but keep moving? Maybe. I just know that I need to be with Cam right now.

I make my way up to his room and find him curled up in bed, eyes closed and some basketball game playing on TV. His eyes pop open when he hears my foot steps and he smiles softly. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Nah," I giggle, relieved to see him. "I broke into your room, stole some stuff," I giggle again and tape up the Megan Fox poster. "That way," I say and tape up the pictures of me and Cam, "I'm here al the time. Even when I'm not."

"Thanks, C," Cam shuts his eyes again.

"Are you tired? Should I stop talking?"

He chuckles but keeps his eyes shut. "Not tired just...weary. This chemo stuff is bullshit. I feel like shit."

"Do you want me to get you some tea or something?" I ask and smooth back his hair.

"No, I feel like if I digest anything I'll puke," he sighs. "You can rub my feet though, that'll make me feel better."

I wrinkle my nose but sit on the end of the bed anyways. Cam laughs. "Claire I'm joking, you don't have to rub my feet. But come lie with me."

It had become our nightly routine. I usually came right after school, we'd talk, watch TV, read his Harry Potter books, and squish into the bed together. I slide off my shoes and lie down. "Cam?"

"Yeah?"

"I...you don't have to answer...but..why are you going through chemo if it makes you feel awful if you're just..you're just..."

"Going to die anyway?"

The fact that he says it so casually and easily makes tears form but thankfully not fall. I nod my head because I know if I speak, my voice will shake, and I'll lose it.

"Doctors said without chemo, it'd be three or so months. Why not double it, you know?"

How can he be so nonchalant about all of this? "Cam?"

"What now?"

I laugh softly. "What's your favourite colour?" I ask, then rummage in his bedside drawer for a pad of paper and a pen.

"Blue."

"You can't just say blue," I insist. "There's gotta be, like, a specific blue. Like, my favourite colour is not pink, it's ballet slipper pink."

"Not everyone is as technical as you, Claire," he laughs. "But okay. I like the colour of your eyes. That blue."

I blush and smile and feel warm and happy inside, the way only Cam Fisher makes me feel. I scribble down the answer on the pad of paper.

"What's with the interview?"

I shrug. "I just wanna know these things. Okay...favourite sport?"

"Cheerleading...damn," Cam grins. I elbow him gently. "Okay, fine, soccer. Can I ask you a question?"

"Go for it," I say and write down 'soccer'.

"It is a beautiful day. A day you should be in _school_, I might add. But a beautiful day, nonetheless. What are you doing stuck inside with me?"

I don't answer right away. Instead I get out of the bed and tuck a sheet into the sides of his bed so it sits over him like a tent. Then I crawl back in beside him. "Because I'd rather be in this fort. We could call it C-Squared, ya know, like Taylor Lautner and Taylor Swift? Or...Clam. Oh, let's call it Clam! Fort Clam. I like it."

"Fort Clam," Cam repeats. "Okay, fine. I like it. But still, I don't want you to spend every waking minute here."

I stick my lower lip out and look up at him with the saddest eyes I can manage. "You don't...want me here?"

"Do not look at me like that," Cam laughs and pushes my face into a pillow. "I don't want you wasting all of your time. You're only sixteen once, you shouldn't be spending all your time here."

"You're spending all your time here," I whisper. "And it's you and me, Cam, so as long as you're here, so am I."


	3. Chapter 3

_October._

October to January have _always _been my favourite months. The house is warm, the air is cold. Missy really goes all out in decorating the house for each holiday. Mrs Fisher makes theeee best hot chocolate. There's something about Fall and Winter that is just magical.

"Claire," Miss Lewis, the school counselor and advisor, stops by my locker. "What class do you have right now?"

"Um, Photo."

"Come chat in my office, I'll tell your photo teacher."

I put my camera back in my locker and follow Miss Lewis to her office. I've only been in here one other time: a week before the start of eighth grade to pick up my schedule. I sit in one of the two cushy chairs on one side of her desk. I can't help but notice how messy her desk is -random papers scattered everywhere, an empty water bottle, an empty coffee mug, and her computer is coated in a nice layer of desk. She's a counselor..how is she going to help us get our lives in order if she can't even keep her desk in order?

"How're you doing, Claire?"

"Fine, thank you."

Miss Lewis leans back in her chair and smiles at me. Doesn't say anything. Doesn't move. Is she even blinking? I shift awkwardly in my seat. Suddenly, she snaps back into attention and grabs her empty coffee mug. She puts it to her mouth and takes a sip...even though it's empty. "So. Claire. What did you need to talk about?"

"Um, Miss Lewis, you called me in here. I..assumed you had to talk to me about something."

"Oh! Oh, yes! Right! Okay." She glances at her dusty computer monitor. "Claire, it says here that you're missing six assignments. If you continue the school year like this, there's a good chance you'll have too many missing assignments to pass eleventh grade."

Oh. Well. I hadn't realized it was _six _assignments... "I'm just...really busy," I tell her. "I can do them now and hand them in."

"No point," Miss Lewis sighs. "If it's been more than a week since they were due, you've recieved a zero on them. Which is the case with all six of them."

Six zeroes and we've been in school seven weeks...mom is going to be livid. "It also says," Miss Lewis looks again at her computer. "You've missed eight days of school already with unexcused absenses. Listen, sweetie, you have to start working harder."

I nod. She's right -I do really need to work harder. I just don't have the time for homework and I can't find myself focusing for a full seventy-five minutes in class. By the time I get home from the hospital at ten, I'm exhausted and pass right out. "I'm sorry."

"You'd better get to class now -and remember to do any homework you get from it!"

I open her door, but it hits something. Harris Fisher moves out of the way and rubs his side, where the door hit him. "Watch what you're doing," he mutters, then realizes its me. "Hey."

"Hi," I mumble.

Over the past month, Harris and I have spoken more than we have in the entire ten years that we've known each other, even though we've spoken mostly one syllable words.

"Sup?" He nods towards Miss Lewis' office. He needs a haircut. Well need wouldn't be the right word, it looks nice long, but it gets in his eyes if he flicks his head too hard.

"Uh, Miss Lewis wanted to talk to me," I shrug.

His green eyes cloud over slightly. "What, pressing for details about Cam?"

My lips part slightly, shocked. Has Harris ever spoken a full sentence to me? Don't think so... "Uh, no. About my grades."

He grunts something, going back to the one syllable thing. If a grunt can be considered a single syllable. "I was hoping she'd write me a note to get out of class this afternoon."

I nod and make a move to walk past him and continue on my way to class, but he shuffles and blocks my path. He looks at me awkwardly and uncomfortably and squints his green eyes and scratches the back of his neck. "Look, do you wanna come?"

"To ask her to get you out of class?"

"No," he relaxes for a second and laughs, then quickly grows uncomfortable again. "Uh, wherever I'm going when I get out of class. I just...need to get out of here for a little bit. I was thinking of going for a drive. I thought maybe you might be feeling the same way. You don't...you know, have to talk to me or anything. But it'll get you out of here."

I stare at him, reallyyy shocked this time, trying to comprehend what he just said. Harris has never spoken to me more. But he's right, I do feel the same way. "Um, okay," I bite my lip. "What time are you planning on leaving?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. Like one?"

"Okay," I nod. "I um..will see you then, then."

"Yeah?" He nods. "Wait, do you want me to get her to sign you out too?"

I hesitate. There's no way Miss Lewis will willingly sign me out of class, after going through my folder. "Uh, that's okay, I'll just meet you here."

A sneaky glint flashes in Harris' eyes, one that always flashes in Cam's too, and he half smiles. "Sneaking out?"

I blush. Busted. "I'll see you at one."

* * *

The day passes. I try to concentrate in my classes, I really do, but my attention span has disintegrated. I don't go to my class after lunch, instead waiting around in the parking lot for Harris. He walks out and nods at me. "Anywhere specific you, uh, wanna go?"

I shrug. "Anywhere." I brought along my iPod to listen to music, because if Harris is anything like Cam, he has awful taste in music. Besides, Harris said its not like we had to talk, which, given our awkward semi-conversations, is a good thing.

We set out on the road. I close my eyes and can't help but think of Cam. We'd always had plans -once we got our licenses we could go anywhere. Drive to Manhattan, Canada. Vegas to get married. Cam and I would always promptly burst into hysterics when that one was brought up.

An hour passes. At some point, Harris had gotten on the highway. He keeps his eyes on the road, hands clenched on the wheel. I study him in profile: shaggy black-brown hair, tanned skin, green eyes with dark dark dark lashes, tiny freckles, same lips and nose as Cam. I don't think Cam has freckles.

Harris catches me staring but doesn't call me out. Instead he says "You disappear into your head a lot."

"I know."

"What do girls even think about? Shoes?"

"Probably," I shrug, thinking of Massie.

"Not you?"

"Not me."

"What do you think about?"

"Lately...Cam. Life. And death. And the amount of trouble I'd get in if my mom knew how much homework I was missing."

Harris is quiet for a little bit, so I turn to my surroundings. Forest whizzes past us. Few cars are on the highway, probably because it's a Wednesday afternoon. Finally, Harris whispers "It's not fair, Claire."

I think that's the first time Harris has ever said my name. I try to push the shock aside for later so I can answer him. Though he didn't specify what's not fair, I know. "It's not."

"Why Cam? Why my brother?! He's such a...such a..." he trails off and quickly wipes a tear away. My heart breaks a little bit.

"He's Cam," I whisper. "There's no other way to describe him." He's Cam -golden boy, soccer star, A-plus student, hilarious, sweet. My rock. My best friend.

Harris pulls over on the side of the highway, which I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to do. "I just...I just don't get how. Or why."

"It's cancer. There is no how or why."

"The house is so fucking quiet without you and him," he turns to look at me. I didn't know that, hadn't thought of that. "My parents are arguing all the time."

Oh. I can't picture Mr and Mrs Fisher arguing -they're always so in love. Cam and I used to catch them making out in the kitchen like they were teenagers. "I'm..." I trail off, not wanting to say 'I'm sorry'. Harris is probably as sick of that as I am.

"I hate it."

"I hate it too," Harris agrees. "I'm so fucking sick of people looking at me with that stupid look in their eyes. Like they feel bad for me. Like 'oh sorry, your brother is dying...but boy am I glad I'm not in your position!' You know?!"

I do know. Harris summed up exactly how they look at me. At him. "I know," I whisper, wanting to cry but not wanting Harris to see me cry.

"I can't stand seeing him so..so..." Harris trails off, not knowing how to describe it. "He just lies there. Sick. Dying. When it's the last...the last few months, he's going to be so weak. I can't stand the thought of seeing him like that, Cam's so strong."

I hadn't thought ahead. To the part when Cam suffers. I just think of after...about _me. _A sob escapes me, and I put my face into my hands. Harris looks startled, but is quick to rub my back soothingly, albeit a little awkwardly.

"Claire, I'm sorry..I didn't mean to..I didn't invite you along just to make you think of Cam. I'm sorry."

I shake my head. "It's not that," I tell him, once my sobs had subsided. My face feels hot and my body feels tired. "I just feel selfish. All of this time I've been thinking about how _I'm _going to be after he..." I trail off, not wanting to say _dies. _"Its never crossed my mind that he's going to suffer. Or be afraid. Or..."

"That's natural, Claire," Harris mumbles. "Trust me, I felt that way too. Then I just...I dunno. I thought of my baby brother and how he used to be so scared to go to sleep in case monsters got him in the night. And it made me wonder if he's scared to go to sleep now, in case...well in case cancer gets him in the night."

That makes me start crying again, and I see Harris angrily swipe at his tears. Once I've calmed myself again, I tell him "You can cry in front of me. I obviously am not in a place to judge," I point to my face, which I'm sure is red and streaked with snot, tears and mascara.

He snorts. "Definitely not the prettiest flower in the field," he chuckles, then wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

I sigh a long, shuddering breath. "Harris, can we go back now?"

"Yeah...I...uh, thanks for, you know, coming with me," Harris says, and we're back to awkward conversations.

It makes me long for Cam, and how we'd talk and talk and talk for hours, about everything and anything. It was easy. Perfect. I look at the glowing clock and gasp. Is is eight pm already?! Visiting hours are over in an hour, and it'll take at least that to get home. A whole day without seeing Cam.

* * *

My days settle into a routine. Wake up, text Cam. Get ready for school. Sleep through the majority of my classes. Awkwardly talk to Derrick at my locker. Skip lunch to call Cam. Sleep through last class. Awkwardly talk to Harris on our way to the hospital. Watch some dumb sport on TV with Harris and Cam. Awkwardly say bye to Harris. Stay with Cam until nine. Go home. Ignore parents. Attempt homework. Fall asleep. Repeat.

Occasionally, if its a day that Cam's gone through treatment, Harris doesn't come because he doesn't like seeing Cam post-chemo. So its just me and Cam, but he's usually to tired or sick to talk. But I hold a bucket for him when he's sick and smooth his hair back and get a cool, damp cloth to lay over his eyes.

"You're like a mom," he laughs weakly after a particularily bad day.

I giggle and run my fingers through his hair. "Do you want to sleep?"

Cam shakes his head. "I'd rather talk to you. Anymore questions for me?"

Lately, I'd been asking Cam a lot of questions and writing down his answers. He never asks me why I do this, and I never volunteer an answer. But its so that one day, if memories of Cam start to slip away, I can pull out my notebook and read all of his answers and just remember.

"I'm sure I can think of some," I pull my notebook and a purple pen out of my bag. "Favourite movie?"

"Dirty Dancing."

I giggle and wrinkle my nose. "You're such a _girl_."

"You've been my best friend since like second grade," he chuckles, but keeps his eyes closed. "You're bad taste has rubbed off on me throughout the years."

I laugh. "Why haven't you had any serious girlfriends?" I ask, because it's something I've always wondered.

Cam's silent for a moment and I wonder if maybe he's fallen asleep. "Because I've always had you."

"What do you mean?" I ask, forgetting to write down the answer.

"You're always going to be the number one girl in my life. Girls are high maintenance and I don't think any girlfriends of mine would've understood our friendship."

"So...you never asked anyone out because of me?"

"Yeah. But not in a bad way, Claire. The way I see it is, girlfriends would've caused drama. They wouldn't have understood how much you mean to me, and it would've made them jealous. Besides, why would I even need a girlfriend if I have you?"

I don't say anything. A nice warm feeling spreads through me at Cam's words, but I also feel a little guilty. If he was into someone, he should've just asked someone out.

"And its not like I never got any action."

"Wait, what?!" I lean forward and widen my eyes. Cam opens a single eye to gauge my reaction and laughs.

"Well there was Alicia. And Kristen, from history class? And Massie Block..." he trails off, watching me with a smirk.

"No _way_! And you never told me?!"

He shrugs. "The high maintenance thing goes both ways, Claire. You wouldn't be impressed if I told you I'd hooked up with Massie Block."

I purse my lips. "Well..no. Massie Block, Cam?! Massie Block! She's...she's a troll!"

Cam laughs. "This is why I never told you!"

I laugh too. "I can't believe you didn't tell me," I swat him on the shoulder. Is his shoulder feeling a little bony? Maybe it's just my imagination.

A young nurse walks into the room. She's very blonde and _very _pretty. "I love hearing all the laughter coming out of this room," she smiles at Cam, and Cam beams back. Typical. "And I hate to break it up, but visiting hours are over." She smiles apologetically at me before leaving.

I stand up and collect my notebook and backpack. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Can you bring Dirty Dancing?" Cam asks, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Yes," I lean down to kiss him on the cheek. "Now go to sleep."


	4. Chapter 4

"Claire Stacy Lyons!"

My eyes pop open at the sound of mom screeching my name. I look at the clock -wait what is mom doing yelling at me at eight-thirty on a Saturday morning?! I hear two pairs of feet thumping up the stairs so I sit up and attempt to look innocent. Mom and dad burst into my room, both looking angry. Uh oh.

"Morning," I mumble.

"Claire," mom glares at me. "I just got off of the phone with your principal. Would you like to tell me why you haven't completed fourteen assignments?! Or why you're sleeping in class and _skipping school_?!"

I say nothing, instead choosing to look down at my pale purple duvet. Dad comes and sits on the edge of my bed. "Claire, honey, it's not that we're mad at you-"

"I'm mad!" Mom shout_._

Dad glares at her before returning his gaze to me. "As I was saying. It's not that we're mad at you. We're _worried _about you. You've always been so good when it came to handing in homework. And skipping school? At the end of last year you told me how excited you were for the classes you were taking this year."

My heart melts. Dad's always stuck up for me when mom and I fight. He's always busy with work and practically lives in his office, but when he is here, he really makes up for it. Tears gather in my eyes but don't spill out.

"Claire, talk to us," he sighs. "What happened to Yale? I thought you wanted to keep exceptional grades to get into Yale?"

"Things change," I mutter.

"So what?!" Mom explodes. "So now you don't want to go to Yale?! To any university?! How are you planning on supporting yourself -by selling-"

"Judy," Dad silences her. "Claire, you need good grades, whether you're planning on attending Yale or not. I want you to succeed in life, and you won't unless you _apply _yourself. Are you applying yourself in school right now?" I shake my head. "No. Exactly. Think about that, sweetheart."

I nod and before I can stop myself, I throw my arms around my dad and squeeze tight. I haven't given him a real hug since I was thirteen. Dad stiffens, shocked and startled, before hugging me back. "We both love you, Bear," he whispers in my ear.

"I know, Daddy."

Mom looks at me, half lost, half hurt. My mother and I have disagreed about everything since I learned to speak. I stare at her impassively before she and my dad leave.

With a sigh, I curl back under my duvet. I reach for my phone and dial Cam's familiar number. When he picks up, he sounds groggy and his voice is all scratchy.

"Did I wake you?" I ask.

"Yes," he yawns. "But that's okay, I like waking up to your voice."

I blush. "I was thinking I could bring you lunch and we could sit outside of the hospital? In the courtyard? The leaves are starting to turn -I know how much you love this time of year."

"Oh, Claire," Cam says. "What would I do without you?"

I laugh, but feel tears start to form again. This time, they do find their way from my eyes to my pillow. What would I do without him?

* * *

I shower and leave the house within fifteen minutes. Walking downtown in the cold is better than avoiding mom in the house. But after twenty minutes of walking in the early October air, I wish I had grabbed a heavier jacket than my leather one.

I sit on a bench and the cold seeps through my jeans. If this was a Saturday last year, I'd probably head over to Cam's and talk with Mrs Fisher until he woke up, then we'd spend the entire day doing whatever we wanted.

"Claire?" a female voice says behind me.

I whip around and see Alicia Rivera, one of Massie Block's minions, walking up to me, a rather large poodle sniffing around behind her. "Hi," I say shortly because, let's be honest, Massie Block and her minions and I have never gotten along.

"I wasn't sure if it was you," she mumbled. "But no one has your hair. Is it natural?"

"Uh, yeah." Why on earth is she talking to me?!

"Why are you out so early?"

"Just...didn't wanna be in the house," I shrug. "Why are you out so early?"

"Bootsie needed a walk," she nods towards the dog that's now sniffing a small tree. "And tell me about it," she rolls her eyes, and I'm surprised to see she has no makeup on. She has really pretty eyes when they're not caked with makeup. "My parents are currently going through a divorce. My mom and I are living in that apartment right now," she points to a high rise that's all windows. "She's driving me crazy. We've _never _gotten along, and now I have to spend all of my time with her."

"That sucks," I say awkwardly. "My mom and I don't get along either." Why am I telling her this? Why am I still even in this conversation?!

"Not surprised," Alicia rolls her eyes again. "Our moms are friends, obviously they're both insane."

I smile before I can stop myself. But then I remember that this _is _Alicia Rivera I'm speaking to. "Why are you talking to me like we're friends?" I ask her. "Or talking to me at all?"

Alicia frowns for a half second before looking at the ground. "I dunno," she shrugs her small shoulders. "I just...I dunno," she repeats. "Lately you've just looked really lonely. I know how it feels to be lonely, and it doesn't feel very nice."

Alicia's _lonely_?! I always see her with Massie and the other minions, but now that I think of it, she's always the last one to get a joke or a secret told to. She hangs onto Massie's every word, but Massie barely turns her way. But she's right -I'm lonely. I miss getting notes tossed onto my desk from Cam, or arguing with him over the last chocolate milk in the cafeteria.

"No," I say quietly. "It doesn't."

"I just figured you might like to talk to someone."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," she says. "Could I sit down?"

I slide down the bench to make room for Alicia and we sit in silence, watching her dog sniff the trees, the fire hydrant, the storm drain. After a while, she says "I still don't believe it about Cam," so softly that I can barely hear her.

"Yeah. Me too."

"Its just...cancer. He's so...so _normal_, you know? I've been praying for him though."

"You're religious?" I ask, surprised.

She nods. "I go to church with my mom every Sunday. Its nice, you know, having someone to talk to, and knowing He won't judge me, no matter how dumb I sound."

I feel bad for Alicia, knowing Massie definitely judges her on what she says. I've never been a religious person, and I don't intend on being one now. If there was a God, he wouldn't make people have cancer, wouldn't let wars kill millions of innocent people, wouldn't let children go hungry.

Alicia stands up and half smiles at me. "I gotta go, my mom will be wondering where I am. But..I dunno if you want to or not, but if you're free sometime, maybe you'd wanna get a coffee or something?"

I find myself saying sure, and exchanging cell numbers with Alicia. With a wave and a whistle to Bootsie, she takes off back down the street.

I decide not to think about that because it just leaves me with a mix of emotions that makes me confused. So instead I cross the street to Cam's favourite bistro and pick up his favourite sandwich and two bowls of tomato soup and head over to the hospital.

The nurses on Cam's ward know me by now, and always smile warmly when they see me. The young nurse who Cam thinks is hot beams at me as I walk by. "Hello Claire!"

I smile back before slipping into Cam's room. His roommate's bed is empty _still. _Where is this guy? Cam's sitting up in bed, reading, but looks up when I walk in.

"I brought you a bacon and tomato grilled cheese," I shake the bag its in. "And tomato soup!"

"You're the best," Cam grins. "I'm getting a little tired of hospital food anyway. I asked Baylee -that's the hot nurse- to sign me out, so I'm ready when you are."

We walk outside to the courtyard, arm in arm. A few nurses are sitting out there, smoking and drinking coffees. Cam chooses a picnic table under a big oak tree that's starting to change from green to orange and yellow.

While we eat, I tell Cam about Alicia. He chuckles. "Bootsie? What a ridiculous name. But that's really sweet."

I shrug. "I felt kinda bad for her," I bite my lip. "Massie's so _mean."_

"I think Alicia can hold her own," Cam shrugs. "You're certainly making a lot of friends."

"What do you mean?"

"Well first Derrick, now Alicia."

"Derrick?"

"He came to visit me, told me how the soccer team has turned to shit without me," Cam boasts. "But he also told me you guys went for coffee."

"It was awkward and weird," I mumble. "We barely spoke and I think he was just wasting time before his dentist appointment."

Cam shrugs and smirks. "Whatever you say."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Cam grins before taking another bite of his sandwich.

Later that night, Cam and I sit back in his room, watching Dirty Dancing. Its only eight o'clock, a whole hour until visiting hours are over, but I'm getting ready to leave because Cam's parents are going to be here any second.

"Thanks for today," Cam smiles.

"I'll have to bring you real food more often," I promise. "But the jello here is good, feel free to pocket some for me."

Cam laughs. "I, uh, went to arts and crafts with a bunch of kids on the childrens ward yesterday," he tells me sheepishly. "I made you something."

My heart squeezes. "Give me it!"

"I dunno, its kind of lame. The other kids were carving pumpkins and stuff, I should've just made one of those," he says, looking adorably shy.

"No, Cam, I want whatever you made," I grin. "I accepted your valentine in fourth grade, even though you drew a hand turkey on it, didn't I?"

Cam bursts out laughing. "That's true, I guess. Here you go," he mumbles, before handing over a deck of cards.

The first card reads "52 reasons why I love you" in Cam's too-neat-for-a-boy handwriting. "Cam," I say, touched. I've always been the lovey-dovey one in the friendship, duh, 'cause Cam's a teenage boy.

"Only read one a day," he tells me. "I thought I'd better start telling you all the reasons why I love you."

He doesn't say it, but I know we're both thinking he should tell me _now_, before its too late.


	5. Chapter 5

I rote this and then realized that thanksgiving in the states is different then here in canda. so for you americans, please imagine that thanksgiving is happening on october 13th.

* * *

Everyday at school, I find myself spending more and more time talking to Derrick. It doesn't matter where I am, he finds me. I'm beginning to think he's stalking me or something. And I mean, I'd never tell him, but I appreciate it and have come to like having him around.

"Soccer tryouts are coming up," Derrick says the second I get to my locker.

"Hello to you too," I open my locker and smile at the deck of cards from Cam that are sitting on my shelf. "And so?"

"So," he looks nervous all of a sudden. His eyes shift from the floor, to the ceiling, to the locker, to his feet. "Do you, like, wanna come watch?"

"Watch? Its tryouts, not a game. What's there to watch?"

"I dunno, its dumb," he shrugs, still looking everywhere but at me. "But, like, all the guys bring girls to watch them try out. Its luck or tradition or something like that."

Girls like Massie Block and her minions go to watch soccer tryouts. I don't even _like _soccer, but have come to know everything about it from Cam. "I dunno," I mumble, feeling kinda bad. "I might be busy."

"Oh," Derrick nods quickly. "Oh, yeah, yeah I get that. I mean, its dumb, right?"

"Right," I shut my locker door. "See you after class."

Bio goes by quickly, probably because I spend the entire seventy-five minutes doodling. I tried to pay attention, I really did. On my way to my locker, I run into Harris. He smells of smoke, which he always seems to lately. I suspect he's started smoking.

"Hey," he nods. "How're you?"

"Good, thanks," I open my locker door. "You?"

"Good," Harris nods, then suddenly looks uncomfortable. "Listen, uh, mom and dad wanted me to ask you if you had Thanksgiving plans?"

My heart warms. Good ol' Mr and Mrs Fisher. "Probably not," I admit. "And even if I did, they'd come second to your mom's mashed potatoes."

Harris and I both laugh and I realize that I think this is the first time I've joked around with Harris. Or heard him laugh. He grins for a millisecond. "So I can tell mom you're coming?"

I nod. "Tell her thanks for me."

"For sure. See you," he nods then disappears down the crowded hallway. Holidays with the Fisher family had become a tradition. There's a sharp pain in my heart when I realize this could quite possibly be my last Thanksgiving with Cam.

I try to hold them back, but tears find their way out of my eyes and onto my cheeks. My face feels hot. The tracks from my tears feels hotter. I bury my face in my locker.

"Is she okay?" someone whispers as they walk past my locker.

"I dunno, that's that weird Claire girl. Just keep walking."

I grab my jacket and shut my locker. Keeping my head down, I leave the school as quickly as I can. Too impatient to walk, so I catch a cab to the hospital. It's a day Cam gets chemo but its only ten-thirty, and Cam usually goes in for treatment at one.

He's reading, but his head snaps up when I enter the room. "What are you doing here?!"

"Hello, Cam, I'm great, thank you for asking."

"You have school," Cam puts his book on the night table.

"I know," I shrug. "But I come bearing good news -I'm spending Thanksgiving with you guys."

"You do every year..." Cam trails off, his beautiful multi-coloured eyes searching my face. "Why are you skipping school?"

I sit down in my chair across from his bed. "I...wanted to see you," I shrug.

"Harris told me about you skipping school," Cam says. "And not handing in assignments and sleeping through classes...what's going on? School's so important to you."

Harris told Cam?! What an ass, that's none of his business! "Well lately other things have seemed more important than _school_," I mutter.

"Yale's not going to accept you with-"

"What, have you been talking to my mom too?!" I cross my arms and glare at him. "Yale, Yale, Yale, that's all I hear from her lately! Don't _you _get on my back now too."

Cam closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, something he's always done to calm down. "Claire," he finally says, quietly. Too quietly. "Yale is your _dream _school."

"Well not anymore."

"That's not true," Cam raises his eyebrows. "I know you, Claire Lyons. It's _Yale._"

I stare at the ground for a long time. "Cam, I can't picture myself at Yale without you," I whisper.

Cam's quiet again, staring at his hands. "I don't get to go to Yale, Claire," he whispers back. "Or any university, for that matter. I need you to go to Yale for me. Experience college, and life, and..and everything that I won't get to do, I need you to do it for me."

We're both quiet. I'd never really thought of that. There I go again, being selfish. It hadn't occured to me that Yale was both of our dream school, and now he wouldn't get to go. I look up to see Cam swiping a few tears away and my heart breaks. I haven't seen my best friend cry in _years._

"Oh, Cam," I whisper, and crawl into his tiny hospital bed beside him. He wraps his arms tightly around me and I bury my face into his nice and warm chest. He smells nice, like he always does. When Cam is done crying, he starts to unwrap his arms and pull away, but I grab his waist and hug him closer. "Not yet," I murmur.

Cam rests his cheek on the top of my head and lets me cry for a little longer. I feel the odd tear drop from Cam onto my head, but I pretend I'm just standing in the rain.

I don't go back to school, instead I go home. But for good reason, I swear. What Cam said just made sense. I owe him. I sneak into the house, hoping no one hears or sees me. A pile of unfinished homework sits on my desk. The plan is to do it all by three, hand it in to various teachers, explain what the fuck's been going on, and pray they take pity on me and accept my work for a few marks.

Around noon, Minnie opens my door and puts a sandwich and a bottle of water on my desk. I look up at her in shock -does everyone know I'm home? Minnie smiles warmly at me, and her eyes crinkle in the corner. "No one else knows," she promises. Then her tired brown eyes grow somber and her smile fades. "I had a batch of caramel brownies baking. Would you give them to Cam?"

"Of course, Minnie," I promise. Cam loves Minnie's baking, especially her caramel brownies. Minnie smiles at me, then leaves and shuts my door quietly.

Finally, _finally_, I'm done. None of it is great, but its completed, and hopefully will give me some marks. I decide to go to Mr Gregory's class first. I knock hesitantly on the door, then push it open and peer my head in.

"Miss Lyons," he nods at me. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Um," I mumble. Shit. Should've rehearsed a speech or something. "I have some homework," I smile hopefully. "And I know it's really, really late...but..." I trail off and stare at the floor.

"Let me take a look at it," Mr. Gregory slips on his reading glasses. "No promises, but I'll see what I can do."

"Actually?!"

He shrugs. "It's been a tough few months, Claire. Though your grades shouldn't have dropped this low, I get it. I'm just glad you're ready to get back on track."

I feel tears burn behind my eyes so I pinch the back of my hand. Hard. "Thank you," I manage. "Gotta get to Yale, right?"

"Ah," his eyes light up. "I didn't know you were interested in Yale. I'm an alumni, you know."

"Really? That's so cool. Is it as great a school as it seems?"

"Better," he nods. "I'll take a look at all of this tonight and I'll see you tomorrow in English." he smiles briefly at me.

I smile back and leave. Over all, five out of seven teachers agreed to give me a couple marks for my late work. On my way outside, I see Harris and a few hockey boys leaving against the lockers. Harris sees me and tells the guys "gotta go", then walks towards me. "Hey," he nods.

"Are you going to cut your hair any time soon?" I blurt out, then blush. Harris and I have become sorta friends, but we're definitely not on the level where I can tell him when to get his hair cut.

To my surprise, Harris laughs and shakes his bangs into his eyes. "Guess I should, hey? What are you doing now? Do you, uh, wanna come?"

"Uh, sure," I say. I used to accompany Cam on all of his trips to the salon. We drive in awkward silence, the way we always do.

"Didn't see you around today," Harris mumbles.

"I skipped," I admit.

"Nasty habit," he says in a way which makes me think he knows just how much I've missed so far.

"So is smoking," I eye the package of cigarettes in between our seats. Knew it.

"Don't I know it," he says, and shakes out a cigarette and lights it. Then its back to silence. Smoke curls out the open window, then disappears.

Thirty minutes later, a freshly trimmed Harris drops me off at home. My mom stares at us through the bay window, and I'm sure she'll be thrilled to smell the smoke off of me. "I'll see you later," I tell him.

"You bet," he nods, before driving away.

"Claire? How's-" she breaks off and sniffs the air. "Why do you smell like smoke? Who was that who just dropped you off?"

"Didn't you hear?" I ask, already walking up the stairs. "I joined a gang. And that was my boyfriend, Snake."

"Claire," mom says, as if she's unsure whether to believe me or not. "Come back, I'm speaking to you!"

I really have no patience for my mother. The few times we do speak, it leads to fighting. So I try to avoid her all together. So really, by walking away I'm doing us both a favour.


	6. Chapter 6

your nice reviews always make me feel so warm and fuzzy, THANK YOU!

* * *

"We're having important guests over for dinner tomorrow night," my mother says one morning over breakfast. "Please try your best not to be surly. Why don't you go to the salon today and get your highlights touched up? I'm sure Jakkob would be happy to take you without an appointment."

"I was actually thinking the same time," I tell her. "What do you think about pink and black highlights?"

Mom purses her lips and shoots me a look that says she doesn't find it as funny as I do. "I don't need to get my highlights touched up," I mutter. "And I told you Cam and I were going to watch some movies tomorrow night."

"Can't you do it another time?" Mom asks. I say nothing. Dad glares at her. She lowers her eyes, realizing her mistake. But does she apologize? Nope.

"Why don't you watch a movie with Cam after school?" my dad suggests. "Then you can be home in time for dinner by five. William Block's business will be good for my company, and we need you there to charm him," he winks at me.

William Block? Why do I know that name? Wait. No. "Dad, William Block's daughter hates me. You'd have better luck getting his business if I wasn't there, trust me."

"Claire, I will not have you lying to us to get out of dinner," my mom snaps.

"Excuse me," I push back my chair and stomp into the living room. Two years. Just two years, then I'm out of here and free. My phone rings, but I don't recognize the number. "Hello?"

"Claire? Uh, hey, this is Derrick."

"Hi," I say, surprised. How'd he get my number?

"I know this is like weird and stuff," he mumbles. "But I have to get my dumb sister a birthday present. I don't know what seven year old girls like...do you think you could come help me shop? You don't have to, I mean, I know you're busy and stuff, but-"

"Sure," I interrupt him. That boy has a terrible habit of babbling. "Do you want me to meet you somewhere?"

"Oh, great, thanks," Derrick sounds relieved. "Um Toys R Us?"

"See you there," I hang up. When I look up from my phone, my dad's standing in the doorway of the living room. "Hi."

"Hi," he says back. "Who was that? Your boyfriend Snake?" I blush. "Your mom told me about this gang," he half-smiles, knowing I would never join a gang, nor date a boy named Snake. "What's going on, Bear? I know your mother and you have never gotten along, but lately it seems escalated."

"Mom's a bitch," I say, and his eyebrows raise in surprise. "I have plans, Daddy. Sorry," I duck out the door before he can say anything else. I've never sworn in front of my dad before. Or blown him off.

I find Derrick riding down the aisle on a scooter with a little boy. He stops when he sees me, and blushes a little. "Hey," he mumbles, putting the scooter back on the shelf.

"Derrick, aren't we gonna race again?" The little boy looks at him.

"Sorry, man, my friend's here now," he shrugs. "Add me on Live though, we can game."

The kid scooters away and I smirk at Derrick. "You're a gamer?"

"Don't tell my friends," he grumbles. "They think I'm playing soccer with my sister, but I'm really gaming."

I laugh as we stroll through the Barbie section. "What's your sister into?"

"Girly things," he shrugs. "Pink stuff. Tutus. She's a cheerleader. Do they make cheerleader Barbies who wear pink tutus?"

"Maybe you should've brought Massie or someone along," I stare at the rows and rows of perfectly coiffed dolls. Massie certainly looks more like Barbie than I do. "She probably knows all about these things. I was more of an outdoorsy kid."

"Massie's no fun though," Derrick grabs a Barbie in a bikini and stares. "I like hanging out with you."

"Do they ever wonder why you don't eat lunch at their table anymore? And you've moved to my isolated side of the cafeteria?" I ask, referring to his friends and Massie Block and the minions.

"Yeah," he puts that Barbie back and grabs one with long blonde hair. "This one looks like you, if you straightened your hair," he flicks one of my curls. "But I think they get it. I mean, you can only listen to Massie and Dylan talk for so long, you know? Massie thinks the only reason I'm hanging out you is to get in your pants. Which it totally isn't," he widens his brown eyes.

I roll my eyes and pick up a pink Barbie convertable and put it in his basket. "Now we just need Barbies...maybe a Barbie and Ken," I pick up the Barbie Derrick said looked like me, and a blonde boy in a leather jacket. "I think this Ken is too tough for a pink convertable."

Derrick laughs and puts the convertable back but takes Ken. "My kind of doll then," he laughs again. "What about an RV?"

"A pink RV is less manly than a pink convertable..."

Finally, we decide on a the Ken and Barbie, and a silver PT Cruiser. "In case they want kids," Derrick says with a grin. "So, do you wanna come give this to Sammi with me?" he asks awkwardly as we leave the store.

I glance at the time on my phone. I could meet Derrick's sister and give her the present and still have time to see Cam. "Sure," I say. We chat while we walk to Derrick's. I find out that Derrick's best friend is Danny Robbins, another soccer boy. His favourite colour is orange. His dad owns a chain of hotels, but works from his home office most of the time, and his mom is an interior designer, who also works from home.

"They're busy a lot," he says. "But at least they're home. What about your parents?"

"My dad buys up a lot of small companies," I say. "He's rarely home though. He travels a lot, always finding businesses that he can buy. He's great though. He used to pick me up something tacky and touristy from everywhere he went. Then my mom decided she didn't want the tacky things in the house, and she locked them in the attic. Dad stopped bringing me trinkets."

"That sucks," Derrick says. "At least she didn't throw them out though."

"She wanted to. Dad talked her out of it. That's the thing about my mom, she has no compassion for her family. No, that's not true. She would do anything for my dad, it's just me. I don't think she wanted kids. She acts like she doesn't."

"Please," Derrick shoves my shoulder. "Who wouldn't want Claire Lyons as a daughter?" He unlocks his front door and we walk in.

"Derrick?" a blonde woman who looks like a female Derrick sticks her head into the hallway. "Oh, hello!"

"Mom, this is my friend, Claire," he introduces us. "She helped me find Sammi's present."

"What a pleasure to meet you!" Mrs. Harrington smiles, exposing perfect white teeth.

A young blonde girl runs down the stairs. "Derrick is this your girlfriend?!"

Derrick and I both blush. "Hi, I'm Derrick's friend, Claire," I introduce myself to her.

"I'm Sammi, his sister," she grins, exposing a missing bottom tooth. "I got the looks in the family, though. And the brains. Derrick got...well, nothing."

We both laugh and I instantly like the little girl. She glares suspiciously at Derrick. "When do I get my present?"

"You can open them now," Mrs Harrington tells her. "Let me get your father. You all go to the living room."

Sammi runs into the living room, and I shoot a grin at an embarrassed Derrick before following. "I get to sit on the couch because I'm the princess," she informs us. "You have to sit on the floor. Except Claire. Claire, you can be my lady in waiting!" I sit beside her on the white leather couch, and Sammi leans towards me. "You're really pretty," she whispers. "Much prettier than Derrick's last girlfriend. Why are you hanging out with someone as ugly as my brother?"

I laugh and Derrick mimes shooting a gun at his head. "See what I put up with?" he mouths, which makes me grin. After I'm introduced to Mr. Harrington, who's also blonde, Sammi starts opening presents. "Derrick, you got me Barbies?!" she squeals. "And they're normal! Oh, Derrick, you're the best!" she leaps off the couch and throws her arms around Derrick's neck. His parents both smile.

Sammi returns to her seat and inspects Barbie and Ken. "They look like you and Claire," she grins. "Claire, you're like real life Barbie! And Derrick can be real life Ken!" Derrick and I both laugh.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Claire?" Mrs. Harrington asks me.

I'm about to decline, since I still haven't seen Cam, but Sammi looks up at me with big sparkly brown eyes. "Oh, please, Claire! I can show you my room! Please, please, please!"

"How can I say no to that?" I smile down at her.

"Great!" Sammi grabs my hand and leads me up the stairs. "I can show you my room, then Derrick can show you his! Then can I play with your hair? You have pretty hair. I hope I have pretty hair like you some day. My mom's making ravioli for dinner because ravioli is my favourite. What's your favourite, Claire? I have a cake and it's pink and zebra and it's pretty. I'm turning seven, how old are you? Are you the same age as Derrick?" she keeps talking, but I tune her out, and turn around to grin at Derrick. He's following us, looking sheepish.

"Sorry," he mouths.

"She's so cute," I mouth back, then follow Sammi into her room. It's pink, with one entire wall painted with pink glitter. "This is my room," Sammi tells me. "And I have a toy room downstairs and that's where my Barbies and dolls go and I have one baby doll and her name's Elizabeth but she likes us to call her Liz. I don't like Liz and personally, I'd like her to go by Beth instead, but daughters, what can you do?" she shakes her head, causing Derrick and I to burst out laughing. "I'll go get her while Derrick shows you his room!" she runs out of th room and down the stairs.

"Is she always like this, or is she just pumped its her birthday?"

_"Always,"_ he sighs. "She has cheer practice a lot, thank god." He opens the door to his room. Its nothing like Cam's -Cam's is an organized mess, whereas Derrick's could be a monk's room.

"It's very tidy," I observe.

He shrugs. "I wouldn't be able to find anything if it was messy."

"Claire?! Derrick?!" we hear Sammi shout from her room. There's thumping down the hallway and then she appears in Derrick's doorway. "This is Beth," she pauses. "No, Beth, I refuse to call you Liz. Beth is such a ncie name," she pauses again. "Claire, will you puh-lease tell her Beth is nicer than Liz? Come with me," she says before I can answer. "Let's all play Barbies now," she takes off downstairs again, leaving Derrick and I no choice but to follow.

* * *

"Thank you so much for dinner," I tell Mrs Harrington. "And happy birthday, Sammi!"

"Will you come over to play again, Claire?!" Sammi grins.

"Of course!" I promise. "I'll see you later," I tell Derrick.

It was a nice evening, and although I do feel bad about not getting to see Cam, it was kind of nice not to be at the hospital. Just to act sixteen and laugh and play Barbies. The Harrington's driver gives me a ride home.

My mom and dad are standing by the door when I get walk in. "Claire, where were you?!" my dad asks. "You weren't picking up your phone."

"I was at Derrick Harrington's," I say. "It was his little sister's birthday, I helped pick out a gift." Then I notice how tired my dad looks and how my mom's eyes are rimmed red. "Why?"

"We got a call from Mrs. Fisher," my dad says gently. "Cam's been moved to ICU."

And then everything goes black.


	7. Chapter 7

soo i go back to school on the fifth, when do you go back?

ps that was my sneaky way of hinting that updates will generally be slower after i go back to school

xx

* * *

The ICU waiting room is cold. I don't remember the ride over here. Or getting up to the ICU floor. Or sitting beside Harris and squeezing his hand. His hand is cold too.

A doctor smiles at us. "The Fishers?"

Mrs Fisher nods and Mr Fisher stands to shake the doctors hand. "Cam has an infection, but it's nothing we can't treat. Infections are very common in patients undergoing chemotherapy. They're common, but that doesn't mean they're not dangerous. We can't always use the same things to treat cancer patients that we use with healthy people. That being said, Cam should be fine by the day after tomorrow. If everything is okay, he can return to his room."

Everyone in the room visibly sags with relief. Everyone but me.

"Can we see him?" Mrs Lyons asks.

"Immediate family only," the doctor looks apologetically at my parents. "You'll have to wash your hands and face with antibacterial soap first, then put on a gown, cap, mask, gloves and shoes."

"Come on," Harris stands and tugs me up. The doctor looks at us suspiciously. There's no way he'd believe I'm family with these people, who all have dark dark hair. "Adopted sister," Harris says, and maybe because the doctor feels bad for me, he lets me go in with them.

I take my shoes off and slip my feet into the little slips. Tuck my hair under the cap. Pull on the gloves. I snap the mask on a little too hard, but hardly even feel the sting in my cheek. Mr and Mrs Fisher walking into the room, shutting the door behind them.

After a few minutes, Harris opens the door. I stay where I am. He shuts the door and turns around, confused. "Coming?"

I can't. I can't see Cam attached to all those tubes and alone in the white sterile room. My feet won't move. Harris grabs my hand and pulls me after him, and I have no choice but to follow. Cam's out, his dark thick lashes resting on his white cheeks. Does he look thin?

"Would you like a few minutes?" Mrs Fisher asks me gently. "He's going to be okay, Claire."

I don't say anything. I don't know if I _can_ say anything. I haven't said anything since dad told me. Mr Fisher touches Harris' shoulder gently, then he and Mrs Fisher leave. Harris looks at me from across Cam. "Want me to go?"

I trail my gloved finger along the bar on the side of Cam's bed. My poor, poor best friend. I wonder if he was scared, being carted off to ICU. He was alone -Mr and Mrs Fisher were getting groceries and Harris had hockey practice. I wasn't here today. I'm here _everyday. _The one day I'm not, things take a turn for the worse.

"He's going to be okay," Harris says, repeating his mom, the doctor.

"For now," I whisper. "He's going to be okay for now."

Harris says nothing and I say nothing and that's fine with me. I think if I spoke anymore, I'd start crying. A few minutes later, the doctor returns. "I'm sorry, guys, but visiting hours are over. You're more than welcome to come back tomorrow. And then the next day, Cam will be back in his room!" his mask shifts, like he's grinning at us from beneath it.

I touch Cam's hand softly with my gloved hand before leaving. Harris follows. "Ready to go, Bear?" my dad stands from his chair.

No. But I don't tell him that.

"Would you like to come over, Claire?" Mrs Fisher asks me. Harris' tired eyes plead yes. If he's feeling anything like me, he doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't think-" mom starts to say, but I interrupt. "Yes please."

"Claire," mom shoots me a look. She was never pleased with me and Cam having sleepovers, even though nothing went on. But surely having a sleepover when the older Fisher boy is home is even worse.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I say as a way of goodbye, and follow the Fishers out of the waiting room and into the elevator. The last thing I see before the doors close is my mother glaring at me.

* * *

By Monday morning, Cam's back in his usual room and is back to normal medication. "I can help you with that Bio worksheet," Cam tells me through the phone on my walk to school. "Wanna come over after school?"

"Yes," I say, vowing that I will never ever ever ever blow a visit off again. "Want me to bring you anything?"

"I could go for sushi," he sighs. "But the doctor says no raw fish or meat for a few weeks. But you can bring me regular coffee. The coffee here is terrible."

I laugh. "Got it. I gotta go, I'll see you this afternoon."

Derrick's waiting at our lockers when I get to mine. "Hey, I heard about Cam. He's okay now, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Derrick looks relieved. "Good. So, thanks again for helping me pick out Sammi's gift. God, you're all she's been talking about," he shoots me a grin. "She says our parents should trade, so you can be her sister."

I really don't feel much like talking right now. Its Derrick's fault that I hadn't visited Cam on Saturday. Obviously, my visit with Cam wouldn't have prevented him from getting an infection, but I still feel bad. And Derrick should too.

"Everything okay?" his asks. "Cam's okay you said."

"Everything is great," I tell him shortly and shut my locker shut.

"Are you mad at me?" Derrick asks cautiously, like I'll blow up at him. Which I do.

"I didn't see Cam on Saturday, that's when he went into ICU. And its because you made me go shopping with you and stay for dinner!"

Derrick crinkles his eyebrows. "I didn't _make _you do either of those things! I asked, you said yes!"

"Whatever." I mutter, walking away. Okay, he makes a little sense. But still.

"Are you actually mad at me?!" Derrick calls after me, sounding incredulous.

My silence answers for me.

* * *

"Claire, its photosynthesis. We've been learning about it since fourth grade," Cam sighs and rubs his forehead, like he's losing patience.

"I hate bio," I grumble. "Why am I even taking it?"

"Yale," Cam reminds me.

"Yale's not going to take me if I fail Bio11."

"Claire-" Cam breaks off as the door opens. Massie Block stands in the doorway, looking perfectly put together. Wait, is she wearing a different outfit than the one she wore at school an hour ago? Who does that?

"Cam," she grins at him. "Hi!" Then her gaze turns to me and her smile fades. "I'm so sorry," she widens her freaky eyes. "Am I interrupting?"

"No, come in!" Cam grins back at her.

Um, yes bitch, you are fucking interrupting. Now get the fuck out of here before I rip out your stupidly glossy hair. Massie smiles at me and sits on the chair to Cam's left, since I'm on the right. "Hello, Claire," she says sweetly.

Fake.

Then I notice Cam shooting me a look, so I mutter "hey", then go back to silently hating her. "So, Cam," she grins her stupidly toothy smile at him. "I realized I've only seen you like, twice since the summer so I _had _to come by. I didn't know Claire would be here, I'm so sorry," she smiles apologetically at me.

Fake.

"All good," I mumble and stand. "I'm going to get a coffee. Does anyone want anything?" I ask awkwardly, staring at my shoes. Great, I'm like her fucking maid.

"Aren't you _too _sweet!" Massie looks stupidly touched that I'd asked.

Fake.

"I'd _love _a peppermint tea, please and thank you," she bats her probably-false eyelashes at me.

Cam shrugs. "Me too."

Cam doesn't even _drink _tea.

As I exit, I hear Massie coo "She is just _such _a doll, isn't she?"

Fakefakefakefakefuckyou.


	8. Chapter 8

been a while, eh?

* * *

_November._

November blows in with cold winds that sting my cheeks and make my eyes water. The leaves have fallen off the trees, the skies are bleak and grey, and the view from Cam's room is depressing. We're both reading, me in the arm chair on his left and Cam in his bed.

"Did I tell you my hair's falling out?" He asks, his eyes not even leaving his book. He brings it up casually, like he's telling me he finished his history homework.

I close my book and stare at him, eyes wide. With the exception of the affects of chemo, Cam hasn't looked _sick. _But now...

"Do you want me to shave my head?" I lean over so my arms are crossed on his bed, then rest my chin on my arms.

Cam bursts out laughing, and I'm a little wounded. I was being serious. I'd do anything to make Cam feel better. "I'm sorry. Sorry," he says, when he notices my facial expression. But he's still chuckling. "Claire, this isn't _My Sister's Keeper_."

"I'd still do it," I mutter.

"That's very...sweet," Cam says, looking like he's trying to hold in more laughs. "But its not weird for guys to be bald. Basket ball players shave their heads all the time. Besides...you'd be one ugly chick without hair."

* * *

School has gone back to being lonely. I sit by myself at my table in the back at lunch, picking at my peanut butter and jam sandwich. Derrick texted/called/Facebooked/hung around me, apologizing (though really, he shouldn't have had to), for about a week and a half. After that, he gave up and now has returned to Massie Block and the Minions.

Every now and then I find myself staring over there, semi wishing Derrick would come back. I take a sip of my tea as Harris Fisher slides into the seat across from her. "Anyone sitting here?"

"What do you think?" I mutter. "No."

"Cool," he nods, then begins eating his spaghetti.

"Cool," I agree.

"Game day," Harris tells me. "First game of the season."

"Hockey?"

"What else?" He says, grinning. "What are you doing tonight? Come watch."

I wrinkle my nose. I'm not a sports person, but Cam forced me to sit through all of his games. It's always cold in hockey rinks too. And Massie Block and the Minions will be there, since Massie's a self proclaimed "puck bunny".

"Don't give me that face, you've never even _tried _to watch hockey."

"You don't know that," I mutter. Harris cocks an eyebrow at me, so I roll my eyes and admit "Fine, I've never watched hockey."

"Then come. Unless you have plans?" his green eyes stray to Massie's table, specifically to _Derrick_, and I blush.

"I'll have to break them," I shrug. "I'm sure my couch and Netflix will be very disappointed not to see me."

Harris laughs. My blush deepens. "It starts at seven, don't be late," he looks at me seriously. "The guys are all looking for new good luck charms, if we win tonight, I'll officially consider you mine."

By that point, my entire face is crimson.

* * *

Derrick's rummaging in his locker after school, so I tentatively say "Hey".

Derrick looks up, surprised. "Hey."

"How are you?"

"Good," he nods, then continues looking through his locker. "You?"

"Apologetic," I tilt my head to the left and half-smile hopefully.

Derrick brings his head out of his locker again. "Oh yeah?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I shouldn't have cut you out or blamed you," I tell him. "I just...I dunno, nothing was really making sense in my head and I said things that I didn't mean, or that were true."

"I get it," Derrick's eyes soften a little. "It's okay."

I breathe out, relieved. I hate to admit it, but I had really been enjoying having Derrick around, and the thought of him not forgiving me made me feel a little sick. "I was scared you weren't going to forgive me," I blurt. Oh...guess I would admit it then.

Derrick blushes a little, which makes me blush too. "I could only avoid you at the lockers for so long."

"Do you want to come to the hockey game with me tonight? I told Harris I'd go."

Derrick hesitates, but then agrees. "I didn't know you were into hockey."

"I'm not," I shrug.

"So you're into Harris?"

"No!" I feel my face heat up. "I dunno...we're like, friends..I guess," I frown, because we're both still really awkward around each other and we don't really feel like friends yet. "He asked me to come watch."

"Oh," Derrick nods. "Well, yeah, sure I'll come."

"Good," I smile, then shyly add "I'm glad _we're_ friends."

* * *

"Tell me how absolutely ridiculous my brother looks on the ice," Cam says, later that night. After watching my very first hockey game with Derrick, we picked up hot chocolates and visited Cam.

Derrick laughs. "Pretty ridiculous. Every time he'd score a goal-" Derrick breaks off laughing, and Cam joins in.

"He's such an idiot," Cam laughs. "Trust me, I know the dance he does."

I giggle, feeling warm and light and nice because I apologized to Derrick, and Harris and I are sort of friends and I'm with my best friend in the entire world. Derrick stands up, stretches, then glances at the clock. "I should get going. Nice seein' ya, buddy."

"Yeah," Cam nods. "Come see me more often. Keep me updated on the Tomahawks -I swear I will kill every single person on the soccer team if we don't make it to at least regionals...Keep the boys in check for me."

"Of course," Derrick says to his feet. "I'll see ya. See you Monday, Claire."

"Bye!" I call, as he leaves. "How're you feeling today?"

"Not too bad," Cam says, but I know he's lying. Today was a chemo day, and chemo days are always hard.

"I got you something," I grin shyly.

"What?!" Cam grins back, and his eyes light up a little.

I pull out a thick toque with CAM on it. Cam laughs and takes it out of my hands. "Where did you find a hat with my name on it!"

"I ordered it online," I giggle. "Like it?"

"It'll keep me nice and warm," he grins, pulling it on. "Maybe I'll never take it off."

"Good. It covers those big ears of yours!"

Cam laughs, which makes me laugh. But my laughter fades away to a hot prickling behind my eyes, a sure sign I'm going to cry. What I would do to be able to listen to Cam's laugh forever.

Cam notices my expression and frowns. "What?" he asks softly.

I shrug and swipe away the lone tear that's decided to fall. "Nothing," I sniff.

"Know what I love about you?" Cam's multicoloured eyes look straight into mine, causing me to shiver.

"What?"

"You are so, so strong," he takes my hand and squeezes it, hard. _Strong enough for the both of us_, he tells me silently. I swallow, knowing he's right. "So strong," he repeats, giving my hand one last comforting squeeze.

Strong as Cam believes I am, lately everything seems to be breaking me.

* * *

Saturday morning, I wake up early to do my homework, so I can have the rest of the day free. I look up from my computer as dad pokes his head in my room, looking surprised.

"I don't think I've seen you up on before eight on a Saturday in a long time," he says, looking around my room. "Homework?"

I nod, resuming my typing.

"I'm really glad you're back on track, Bear," dad says gently. I look up at him again and shoot him a small smile. He smiles back. "I'll be out of town until Monday...but you call me if you need anything."

Great. Stuck alone with mom until Monday. "I will," I tell him. "Thanks Daddy."

"Will you, uh, will you tell Cam that all the boys at the firm are thinking of him?"

"Of course," I say softly. "Love you, Dad."

My dad's eyes widen for a second before crinkling when he smiles. "I love you too, Bear."

Just as I'm pulling my coat on to visit Cam, my phone rings. Speak of the devil. "Hi," I answer, "I was just coming to see you!"

"I'm coming home actually," he says. He sounds quiet and weak.

"What?"

"I don't want to do this anymore. Being here. I just want to be in my own room."

"Are you alright?"

Cam sighs. "Yeah. Anyway, my mom's going to get here any minute. Do you want to come over tonight? I just need a few hours on my own though."

"Sure," I say. "I'll see you tonight then. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks."

I frown at my phone, wondering what's bothering Cam.

* * *

"Hi, honey," Mrs. Fisher opens the door and smiles warmly at me. "Oh, you must be freezing! Did you walk all the way here? It's November, sweetheart, you should be wearing a warmer jacket!"

I smile in response and hang my jacket up in the hall closet. "Cam in his room?"

"He is. I was just making some hot chocolate, could you bring some up to him?"

I sit at the kitchen table while Mrs. Fisher stirs the pot of cocoa on the stove. "Is Cam...should I be careful about what I say to Cam? I don't want to accidentally say anything that could make him upset. He sounded weird when I spoke to him today."

Mrs. Fisher sighs. "I don't know, Claire. He called me this morning at eight and asked if he could come home. I thought he meant for the day, but he just didn't want to be in the hospital anymore. He's been up in his room since we got home. Richard tried talking to him, Harris, me. He wouldn't open up. But if anyone can get him to, it's you." She places two steaming mugs on the table in front of me. "I respect his privacy. If he doesn't want to talk to me but wants to talk to you, don't feel obligated to tell me what's happening."

"You're a really good mom, you know that, Mrs. Fisher?"

I push open Cam's door a fraction of an inch and peek in. "Are you decent?" I joke. He's lying on his bed, just staring at the ceiling, but he nods, so I enter. "Your mom made hot chocolate."

"Thought I smelled it," he rolls to one side on his bed to make room for me. "Have a seat."

I notice one of his windows is open, letting in the cold wind. "Want me to shut this?"

"Nah, leave it."

I sit tentatively beside him on his bed. "Are you alright, Cam?" I ask softly. He's wearing the toque I gave him, the one with his name on it.

"Yeah. Wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure," I say. Okay, he doesn't want to talk about whatever's bothering him. Cam and I have shared _everything _with each other, and it hurts a little that he doesn't want to talk about this. "What do you feel like watching?"

"Something stupid. American Pie?"

He makes no move to put the movie on, so I do it myself. "Claire," Cam says softly from behind me while I rummage through his many DVDs. "Someone died today."

"Oh," I say, turning around. "Was it someone you were...friends with? Is that why you came home?"

"We weren't really friends," Cam mumbles. "I dunno. It was his idea to make you that deck of cards. He was good at crafts. He was _twelve_, Claire."

I sit back on the bed. "I'm sorry, Cam," I touch his arm lightly, but he sits up and pulls me into a tight hug. I feel like I'm suffocating into his shoulder, but don't move. I could stay like this forever.

"I just figured...well, I'm dying anyways. Why die in a hospital when I could die in my house with good hot chocolate?"

"Stop," I mumble into his shoulder. I don't like when Cam talks like this. "I hate-"

"I know. Sorry." Cam releases me and inhales a shaky sounding breath. "Okay, put on the movie."

We watch the movie, drinking hot chocolate and occasionally making comments about how Jim looks like Adam Sandler or how Stifler reminds us way too much of Kemp Hurley. Cam doesn't laugh as hard as he usually does, not even when Jim strips at the end and his dad dances along with him.

Just as the movie is ending, Mrs. Fisher pokes her head in. She smiles when she sees us snuggled up, both chuckling at the movie. "I came to say goodnight," her eyes land on Cam's feet, which almost reach the end of his bed. "Remember when we got this bed when you were ten? Now you're almost to long for it." She stares at us for a few seconds. "God, I don't know when you two grew up. Feels like not too long ago you were in here playing the Sims and listening to Blink 182."

I smile at Cam. We were nine and Harris had introduced Cam into his favourite band, which quickly became our favourite band too. "We wasted an entire summer indoors playing that stupid game," I laugh.

Cam smiles and his eyes crinkle in the corners. I love that. "Night, mom," he says. "Love you."

"Harris still isn't home, so I've left the front door unlocked. If he comes home while you're still up, could you make sure he actually makes it into his bed?"

Cam rolls his eyes. "Of course. I'll tuck in my _older _brother."

Mrs. Fisher smiles. "Thank you. Goodnight, Claire," she winks at me.

"Where's Harris?" I ask.

"Some party," Cam rolls his eyes. "You know Harris."

"I don't, actually. I realized that when he started driving me to see you at the hospital. It's weird, since I'm so close with the rest of your family."

Cam laughs. "You don't want to be close with Harris, trust me."

* * *

Cam and I had moved to the couch downstairs in the living room to keep an eye out for Harris. At around one-thirty, the door opens and Harris crashes through. "Little brother!" he grins at Cam before focusing on me. "And Claire..." his eyes widen. "Did I interrupt something?" he whispers very, _very _loudly.

Cam smirks at me. "Just American Reunion. Mom wanted us to make sure you got to your room without breaking everything on the way there."

"Mom," Harris laughs. "What a prankster!"

"Can you shut the door? You're letting the cold in," Cam gets off the couch. "Do you want a glass of water or anything?"

Harris looks confused and looks around. "What happened to that girl?"

"What girl?"

"Massie Block or whatever? She gave me a ride home. I think she wanted something in return," he winks at us. Cam rolls his eyes. I feel annoyed. Can't I have a conversation -even one with someone wasted- without Massie Block being brought up?

"Let's go, I'll help you to bed," Cam laughs.

"You said you'd get me water," Harris stumbles over to the couch where I'm sitting and plops down beside me. "Don't be a liar, Cameron."

Cam rolls his eyes. "Fine, your majesty."

"Claire," Harris says once Cam's in the kitchen. "Claire, Claire, Claire, Claire. Pear," he laughs. "Anyone call you Pear?"

"My dad calls me Bear," I blush. "In public, too."

"Bear," Harris tries the word. "Claire _Bear_, ohhh I got ya, yeah I get it."

I laugh. "Good. How was the party?"

"Same as it always is," he pulls a cigarette from his pocket. "Got a light?"

"Do your parents know you smoke?" Harris shakes his head, holding the unlit cigarette tightly between his lips. "You shouldn't smoke in here then," I stand up and pull him with me. "I'll help you outside." I put his arm around my shoulder, like I did the time Cam broke his ankle skateboarding when we were eleven.

"Claire _Lyons_," Harris smirks. Cam looks exactly like him when he smirks. "Don't tell me you and Massie Block have something in common."

I roll my eyes as he leans against the railing on the porch and lights his cigarette. "So. What are _you _doing _here _at one-thirty at night?" he blows a thin stream of smoke into the cold night.

"I've been sleeping over here since I was, like, twelve," I shiver. "Hurry up, it's freezing out here."

"You cold? Hold this," Harris pushes his cigarette into my hand. I stare at it -does he think holding this is going to warm me up? But then he pushes his hoodie towards me and takes the cigarette back. "Wear that."

"Now you'll freeze," I protest, but pull the soft material over my head anyways. There's just something about boys' clothes that's so much better than girls'.

"Not true. See I've got a heart of ice -I'm used to the cold. Isn't that a Blondie song?"

"That's Heart of _Glass_," I correct. "You know Blondie?"

"I have excellent taste in music," Harris drops his cigarette, and I squish it into the ground with my foot. "Didn't I show you and Cam good music-"

Cam opens the front door, looking annoyed. "_There _you two are. I've been looking all over. Harris, come on, go to bed so we can finish watching this movie."

"I like movies," Harris widens his eyes. "Can I watch?"

Cam looks at me and I smile in a 'how can you say no' kind of way. "Fine," Cam mutters. "Come in, it's fucking freezing out here."

Harris collapses on the middle of the couch, forcing Cam and I to squish in on either side of him. Harris spreads a blanket over our laps and yawns. "Nice and cozy. I like sleepovers. Do we have popcorn?"

"Stop talking, Harris," Cam hushes him.

"Anyone want popcorn?" Harris tries to get up, but Cam blocks him.

"No. You are not in the right state to operate the microwave. Sit. Watch the movie."

"You're such a fucking Finch, isn't he a Finch, Pear?" Harris rolls his head to the right so it's resting on my shoulder. He's a lot taller than me, isn't it uncomfortable?

"Pear?" Cam looks at me, bewildered. "And if I'm a Finch, that makes you Stifler."

"Stifler's the fucking best," Harris yawns again. "You're an idiot, Cameron."

"Stop talking, Harris.


	9. Chapter 9

you guys are the best

* * *

"Can you make me scrambled eggs?"

"Honey, you're graduating this year, you need to learn how to make scrambled eggs yourself."

"But mommy, my head hurts."

"Huh, I wonder why!"

I wake up on the Fisher's couch, still in Harris's hoodie. Cam's on the other side of the couch, clutching a cushion to his chest. I sit up and stretch, cracking my back.

"Look, you woke Claire up!" I hear Mrs. Fisher say from in the kitchen. "Morning, honey!"

"Morning," I sit across from Harris at the kitchen table. Mrs. Fisher puts a mug of coffee with a splash of milk and one sugar in front of me, like she's been doing since I was fourteen.

"Coffee's going to stunt your growth," Harris mumbles. His head resting on the table and covered with his arms.

"I think that's when you're eleven and still growing," I tell him.

Mrs. Fisher laughs. "Would you like some scrambled eggs, Claire?"

"Really, mom? Really?" Harris sits up. "You're the worst mother ever."

Mrs. Fisher laughs again. "I suppose I can make you some too."

Cam walks in, looking adorably rumpled. "I like scrambled eggs," he says, sitting beside me.

"You're in luck then," Mrs. Fisher pats his head affectionately.

"Feeling alright, Harris?" Cam smirks.

"Shut up, _Finch_," Harris mutters.

Mrs. Fisher catches my eye and smiles. Sometimes it's so easy to pretend everything is normal.

* * *

"So what do you want to do today?" I ask.

"Tomahawks are in the playoffs..." Cam bats his lashes at me and pouts. "I know you hate soccer, but pleeeeeeease?"

"Fine," I roll my eyes.

We bundle up in scarves and hats and make our way to the school. Cam exhales and it turns to steam. "Look, I'm smoking," he laughs.

"You're like an eleven year old."

"Come on, you think I'm funny," he elbows me in the ribs.

"Funny looking," I grin. The bleachers are full of students wearing Tomahawk navy and gold or Vikings emerald and white. We find a space that's unfortunately right behind Massie Block and the Minions.

"Cam," Massie coos, her eyes lighting up when she sees him. "How _are _you? Ready to see the Tomahawks totally _kick ass_!" she shouts the last bit, and the people around us all cheer.

I hate her.

"Of course," Cam grins. "I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"

"Oh, you know," she laughs. Even her laugh sounds fake. I hate her. "I had the _best_ time with your

brother last night! I didn't realize you _both _were so funny!"

"Thanks for giving him a ride home. You know Harris."

"I do," she laughs again. I want to reach over and hit her. Massie's eyes land on me. "Oh, Claire! I didn't even see you sitting there," she smiles.

I say nothing. Cam elbows me. "Oh." He elbows me again and shoots me a _be friendly! _look. "How are you?"

"Great," she smiles again. Her eyes stay cold.

Dylan Marvil leans over and whispers something in her ear and the two burst into laughter. Alicia Rivera, sitting on Massie's left, waits a few seconds for someone to let her in, but when no one does she starts digging around in her purse.

"I love your earrings, Alicia." The words leave my mouth without me even realizing it. Alicia, Massie, Dylan, and Cam all look at me, surprised.

Massie frowns at them. "Aren't those from _last _year's line?"

Alicia takes them out and puts them in her purse.

* * *

"She's _awful_," I insist a few hours later. Derrick scored the final goal, winning the Tomahawks the game. Now Derrick, Cam, and I are seated in a small corner booth, drinking coffees and complaining about Massie Block.

Well, _I'm _complaining about Massie Block.

Derrick scratches his neck. "I don't mind her. You just don't know her, Claire."

My eyes narrow. "I don't _know _her? I do and I know that she's a terrible person. _You _don't know her if you think she's nice."

"I never said she was nice," Derrick mutters.

"Well _I _think she's nice," Cam says.

"How can you say that? After everything she's done to me?"

"Well...she's never really done anything to you..."

"She has! You just never see it! Because she's fake. She is a phony person," I drain the last of my coffee, hoping it will give me the strength to win this argument.

"She's pretty though," Derrick says.

Cam slaps his palm into his forehead. I glare at Derrick. "She's _pretty_? That's such a guy response -oh, who cares that she's a terrible person, because she's pretty, right? Who cares that she _ruins _peoples' lives because at least she's hot!"

"Never, _ever_ mention Massie Block's looks around Claire," Cam whispers, obviously knowing from experience.

"I mean...in like...an ugly way..." Derrick trails off. "Like if you put a bunch of ugly people...like together...she's...I give up."

"Good," I mutter.

"Can we change subjects?" Cam asks.

"I should get going," Derrick stands. "I promised my sister I'd watch her cheer practice."

"Tell Sammi I say hi, and that I'll come play soon," I smile.

"She'll hold you to that," Derrick grins. "See you guys around."

"So. What's on the agenda now that you're not in the hospital?"

Cam rests his chin on his hand and sighs. "I don't know. I'd like to go back to school...but I don't think I can, you know?"

"Because you'd be feeling sick?"

"No," Cam hesitates. "It'd just...it'd be weird. Like seeing posters for prom and knowing I'll be dead while you're there. I just...since Jake died -the kid in the hospital-, I just can't stop thinking. Like it hit me -I'm dying. Jake _died_. How long until that's me?"

I feel sick and shivery and hot and its taking all of my will power not to burst into tears, because that would just upset Cam more. I don't know what to say. I don't know that I can say anything without crying.

Cam must notice because he quickly apologizes. "Sorry," he says, staring at the table. "I know you don't like talking like that."

"If you can't talk to _me _about it, then you'll just keep it all in," I say quietly. "You're my best friend, Cam, you can talk to me about anything. Even if I don't like it."

Cam reaches over the table and takes my hand. "You're the best, Claire."

* * *

Derrick's sitting at our usual table on Monday at lunch. "Did you hear?" he whispers. "Apparently Harris and Massie hooked up this weekend. _Everyone_ is talking about it."

I scan the cafeteria until I find Massie's table, which is also Harris's table. They're sitting beside each other and he's cracking up at something she's saying. "Really?" I mutter. "I thought he'd have better taste."

Derrick smirks. "I knew that was coming. Just think -if they end up dating, family game night at the Fishers' will never be the same. You and Massie playing Monopoly against each other..." he shakes his head, as if the outcome is too grim to even say.

I roll my eyes. "I doubt they'll date. And board games don't really seem like her thing."

"So what are you doing tonight? Wanna watch Sammi's cheer team with me? They're showing their routine before their first competition. She's dying to see you again."

"Of course!" I grin. "Should I bring her flowers or anything?"

"Nah," Derrick grins back. "She loves you already -just seeing you will be enough."

* * *

Harris stops by my locker after last block. "Are you coming over? Need a ride?"

"No thanks," I shove my binders into my locker a little harder than necessary. I feel annoyed at Harris for getting with Massie. Can't there be one boy in Westchester County who doesn't find her attractive?

"Easy," he laughs. "You're going to break your binders."

I say nothing in return.

"You okay?"

"Great. See you." I slam my locker door shut and walk away as fast as I can.

"What was that about?" Derrick asks, catching up with me.

"I just want to meet one guy who sees that Massie Block isn't actually all that. There are better people in the world than her."

"For the record, _I _don't think she's all that."

"You still think she's pretty," I wrap a scarf around my neck.

"I know prettier girls than Massie Block," he smiles. "Let's go."

* * *

Sammi's face lights up the second we walk into the gym. "Derrick! CLAIRE! What are you doing here?!" she shrieks, causing a few parents around us to wince.

"Derrick told me you had a cheer competition coming up," I tell her. "I had to see your routine before you went!"

She throws her tiny arms around my waist and squeezes me tightly. "That's so nice of you! Derrick, isn't Claire nice? My mom is here too, you can sit with her, I don't know where she is, but you can find her!"

Sammi's cheer routine is probably the cutest thing I've ever seen. When it's over, she runs over to us and sits in her mom's lap. "Can we get ice cream? Do you like ice cream, Claire? My favourite kind is Rolo which is funny because I don't like Rolos but I like Rolo ice cream. Do you like Rolos? Mom, can we get ice cream?"

Mrs. Harrington laughs. "How about tomorrow -it's late and you still have to read for half an hour and take a bath."

"I don't know how to read. Can Claire come over and teach me how to read? Claire, will you come over and teach me how to read? Can we have a sleepover? Mom, can Claire sleep over? We'll be quiet, I promise."

"Samantha, you can too read!"

I smile at her. "I've got school tomorrow too, Sammi," I tell her. "Maybe this weekend you and Derrick can come over and watch movies. You could even bring Beth if you wanted." I remembered Sammi had prefered her doll Elisabeth to be called Beth over Liz.

Her eyes light up. "Oh mom, please! Can we? Except how 'bout not Derrick, just me and Beth."

Mrs. Harrington smiles. "We'll see. That was very nice of Claire to invite you, what do you say?"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Sammi squeezes me tightly.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Derrick asks.

"I was going to stop by Cam's actually, so I can just walk."

"Don't be silly," Mrs. Harrington shakes her head. "Derrick can drive you. Thank you for coming tonight, Claire."

"Sammi worships you," Derrick says as we walk across the parking lot. "You're making a huge mistake inviting her over. She'll know where you live..."

I laugh. "She's a sweetheart."

"That's what they all say, before they get to know her."

"I'm sure they all say that about you, too," I grin.

Derrick laughs and shakes hair out his eyes. The car swerves with him. "Are you a good driver?" I ask.

He frowns. "Well...yeah. I mean, I think so."

"So that's a no," I mutter, holding back a smirk.

"You don't even have your license, Claire, who are you to talk?" he slams the breaks at a stop sign, shooting us both forward.

"You are a terrible driver, Harrington."

"Remember in grade seven when Massie and all of her friends called me Derrington?" he laughs.

I frown. "I don't remember that actually. I wasn't a part of your clique. Can't we have one conversation without Massie Block being brought up?"

Derrick sighs. "At least _I _never hooked up with her," he says under his breath, but I hear anyway. Which makes me all the more annoyed. Just when I had forgotten about Harris.

"Thanks for the ride," I say. "Sorry about snapping at you."

Derrick shoots me a half smile. "So we're cool? You're not mad at me for...bringing up _Massie Block_?" he says dramatically.

Okay, that _was_ a little ridiculous. "Goodnight, Derrick."

"Night, Claire," he smiles. "I'll wait to make sure you get into the house okay."

I laugh, but am touched. "Who are you, my dad?"

I knock on the door, then turn to wave to Derrick to let him know I'm good. When I turn back around, Harris is standing in the open doorway. He watches Derrick drive back down the long driveway. "Harrington?"

"Yes," I say, squeezing past him into the warm foyer.

"Cam and mom are in the kitchen," he says, before heading into the living room.

"Hi sweetheart," Mrs. Fisher beams at me.

"Hi sweetheart," Cam cries in a high pitched voice. Mrs. Fisher rolls up the newspaper and smacks him with it.

"How was chemo today?" I ask Cam, sitting down across from him.

He shrugs one shoulder. "Same as always."

I smile but my heart breaks a little. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I am now that you're here," he half smiles. "Oh! And I got to see the hot nurse!"

I roll my eyes and catch Mrs Fisher smiling at us. "She still hot?" I ask.

"I think she got hotter. She-" he breaks off and shakes his head at something behind me. I turn around to see Harris and-

And fucking Massie Block.

"Kuh-laire!" she coos. "I didn't know you were here! Harris, let's sit in here with Cam and your mom," she smiles sweetly at Mrs. Fisher.

"Have a seat," Mrs. Fisher smiles back. "Harris, grab a chair from the dining room."

Massie sits beside me and smiles. "Don't you just _love _it here? It's so homey."

"It'll be even homier on Friday when Richard comes home from a business trip," Mrs. Fisher says. Her eyes light up, like she's just had a brilliant idea. "Why don't you both come for dinner Friday night?"

"I'd _love _to, Mrs. Fisher! Thank you for opening up your home to me," Massie touches a hand to her heart, like she's fucking touched by a dinner invitation. "The four of us should do something afterwards. Although...I understand if you two don't want to tag along with Harris and me -I wouldn't want you to feel like it was a double date," she laughs.

I try to catch Cam's eye, but he's too busy talking to Harris, who just sat down. Massie obviously doesn't like that they're not paying attention either. She frowns, clears her throat, and goes "Harris, honey, yoo hoo!"

Harris looks up. "Sorry, what?"

"The four of us are doing something Friday night," she smiles at him and Cam. Cam raises an eyebrow at me. "I know -let's go to Kemp Hurley's birthday party!"

"Claire and I aren't really partiers," Cam informs her. "You two go-"

"Nonsense! We're _all _hanging out! Cam, you know Kemp from soccer, and besides, everyone going _loves _you! And Kuh-laire..." she looks at me and frowns. "Well...I'm sure you'll know at least one person there...hopefully," she murmurs. I can practically see the evil sparkling in her eyes.

As if it weren't obvious, I _hate _Massie Block.


	10. Chapter 10

this chapter's kinda short but the next chapter's been written for a while, so i'll probably post it tomorrow

oh and if you get the chance, check out the moon tonight and tomorrow, it's a beaut!

* * *

The week goes by agonizingly slowly. Massie and Harris have quickly become Briarwood's 'it couple'. I see them kissing in the hallway. Kissing in the cafeteria. Kissing in his car. Kissing beside his car. Kissing in the library. Kissing in line for lunch. Kissing during the national anthem in the morning.

It makes me want to be sick.

Friday during lunch, I ask Derrick if he's going to Kemp Hurley's party that night. "Massie's making Cam and I go," I explain.

"Kuh_-laire_," Derrick slams his hand on the table. "Are you bringing up _Massie Block_? You girls are all the same -can't we just have a single conversation without her being brought up?!"

I roll my eyes but can't conceal my laughter. "Oh, shut up."

"But, yes, I am. Although, now that I know Harris and Massie are going to be there..." he trails off as his eyes land on Harris and Massie's table, where they're, of course, kissing. "Maybe I'll bail."

"It's gross, isn't it?"

"It wouldn't be, if they were really into each other. He's just boosting Massie's popularity. You know how she likes rubbing things in other peoples' faces -that's why they never stop making out."

I wrinkle my nose. "Told you she was fake."

* * *

"Dinner smells _amazing, _Mrs. Fisher," I hear Massie say the second I enter the Fisher household.

"Claire, come in, we're all in the kitchen!" Mrs. Fisher calls. The kitchen is warm and toasty and smells like tomato sauce. Cam, Harris, and Massie are seated at the kitchen table. "How are you, dear?"

"Good. Massie's right, dinner smells great," I say, trying my hardest to be nice.

"Is that Claire I hear?" Mr. Fisher booms from the hallway. He comes into the kitchen, grinning. "God, look at you, I haven't seen you in so long! Look at how grown up you are!" He throws an arm around my shoulders.

"Dad, you've been gone a week," Cam laughs.

"And you didn't greet your real children as enthusiastically as you greeted Claire," Harris rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

"Mr. Fisher, it's so nice to meet you!" Massie jumps up and hurries over to us. "I'm Massie, Harris's girlfriend."

Mr. Fisher looks at Harris, obviously shocked. Harris stares at the table. Let's just say Harris isn't the type of guy who does relationships. "Well, you must be a very special gal," Mr. Fisher recovers. "Pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Richard."

Massie, Cam, and Mr. and Mrs. Fisher chat through dinner. Harris and I stay quiet.

"You guys ready to head out?" Harris asks, once we're done dinner.

"You're not leaving, are you?" Mr. Fisher asks. "We'll have to catch up another time then, Claire. Tell your parents I say hi. I'll call your dad Sunday, I found a great virtual golf place."

"I'll let him know," I say. "Thank you for dinner!"

"Don't stay out _too _late," Mrs. Fisher says sternly. "And Cam -take care of your brother."

"Again," Cam snickers.

"Oh, that reminds me," I pull Harris's hoodie out of my purse. "Yours. From last weekend. Thanks _so _much for letting me borrow it," I bat my eyelashes at Massie as I hand it back to Harris. She looks pissed, which I try not to enjoy too much.

"You planned that," Cam whispers as we follow Massie and Harris to the car. "Bitch," he grins.

"Did you see her face?" I whisper back. "It was worth it."

* * *

In all of my years of high school. I have been to one high school party. I simply don't feel the need to go out every weekend, get drunk, throw up, hook up with some guy, then feel hungover the next day.

You can hear the music blasting from Kemp Hurley's house before you actually get to the house.

"Harris," Kemp greets him with a grin and an awkward bro-hug. "Dude, Cam, no way! How are ya, man?"

"Good," Cam grins, easily at home. "Happy birthday, man!"

"Come on," Kemp pulls Harris and Cam into the crowd, "let me show you where the kegs are."

Massie disappears into the crowd too, though I still hear her annoyingly nasal voice. The party is every bad high school party from every bad movie rolled into one. I almost wait for Kemp's cougar of a mother to make an appearance, ala Stifler's Mom.

"Look at you, life of the party," Derrick appears beside me. I've never been more happy to see him. "Is it what you were expecting?"

"Worse, I think," I laugh. "I don't even know what to do at a party."

Derrick thrusts his red plastic cup into my hand. "If you hold this, it's acceptable to stand in the foyer alone like a loser. It's gingerale."

I laugh and take a sip. "What are you doing? You usually come to these things and you're still standing in the foyer alone like a loser."

"I'm with you, that's not alone," he grins. "Let's explore."

We walk into the huge living room, where the music's blasting from. People are sprawled on the couch, making out, gossiping in corners, and there's the odd drunk white girl dancing by herself in the middle of the room.

"And if you look to your right, you can see Dylan Marvil in her natural habitat," Derrick whispers as we walk through the room. I look to the right, and there's Dylan, sitting on someone's lap and kissing him.

In the kitchen, we run into Massie, Harris, and Cam. "There you are!" Cam cries. "Hey, man," he acknowledges Derrick.

Massie, on the other hand, glares at him, her glossy lips pursed. "What are you even doing here, Derrick?"

Derrick laughs. "Massie, _you _may have cut me off, but everyone else still likes me. Don't be jealous because I'd rather spend my time with Claire than you," he grins.

Massie turns an alarming shade of purple and glares at the two of us. "Harris," she says through clenched teeth. "Let's _go_." She grabs his hand and drags him out of the kitchen.

Derrick and Cam laugh. I feel touched. "You're great," I smile up at Derrick.

"I'm aware," he winks.

An hour and a half later, we're leaving. Cam's yawning -he hasn't had this much interaction in a long, long time. "Dude," Kemp says as we walk to the door. "You gotta come to more of these -you are the fucking bomb. Bring your friend," he winks at me, and I don't even try to hide my disgust.

We drive straight to the Fishers'. We don't drop Massie off. Massie and Harris are spending the night together. While I'm spending the night there.

I feel queasy.

Mr. and Mrs. Fisher are asleep, so we head our separate ways quietly. "Think they're doing it?" Cam yawns and pulls a shirt over his head.

"Ew, stop," I curl up on my side of the bed. "That's gross."

"You and Derrick seem to be getting closer," he says, settling down on his side. He turns the TV on with one hand and wraps the other arm around my shoulders. "Is it time I gave you The Talk?"

"Cam!" I shove him hard enough that he slides off of the bed and lands with a thud on the ground. "You're disgusting, good night!"

"I'm sure Harris and Massie could," he laughs, getting back into bed. "Goodnight, Claire," he pulls me close and kisses me on the forehead. I snuggle up into his side, wishing I could just freeze this moment forever.

I find myself still awake long after Cam's fallen to sleep, so I pull on one of his jackets and slip outside onto the balcony he shares with Harris.

The moon is bright and full and surrounded by twinkling dots. It's beautiful. Being out here, inhaling the cold, crisp air and looking at the moon makes me feel calm. I love the moon. Not just the moon, I love space in general. I could look out at the stars forever.

Suddenly, the smell of smoke hits my nose. The tip of a cigarette glows at the other end of the balcony. Harris.

"My dearest friend," he says, the cigarette waving around while he speaks. "If you don't mind, I'd like to join you by your side, where we can gaze into the stars, and sit together, now and forever."

I can't hold back my smile. "Don't tell me you're a Nightmare Before Christmas fan?"

"Of course I am." He's closer to me now, leaning against the balcony railing beside me. "'We can live like Jack and Sally if you want' -your favourite band, right?"

"I Miss You happens to my favourite song, too," I tell him. "Things worked out for Jack and Sally."

"Doesn't it always in the movies?"

An awkward silence settles over us. Harris puffs on his cigarette. "What are you doing out here?" I ask.

"Massie took over my entire fucking bed," he mutters. "For someone so skinny, she takes up a lot of room."

"Sounds like Cam," I roll my eyes.

"The moon's nice tonight. Supermoon is in the next few days, right?"

I nod. "It's beautiful. I wish I could just stay here and look at the stars forever."

"You like space?"

"I do," I say. "Not the scientific aspect of it. It's so big and vast. It just makes everything here on earth seem so meaningless and small."

"Never thought of it that way," Harris says, his face angled up at the sky. "It's kind of a depressing thought."

"There are much sadder things."


	11. Chapter 11

i obviously was wrong about uploading this right away, my apologies. i added a weee bit on though, just to make up for it!

* * *

_December._

I love winter. There's something magical about the period of time from Thankgiving to New Years. Maybe it's the short days and the long nights, or the twinkling lights strung through town. There's just a spirit of cheer.

Except in my best friend.

"Come on, Cam, it's snowing! That's gotta get you in a good mood!" I insist, staring out the kitchen window at the swirling snowflakes.

"You're mesmerized," Mr. Fisher laughs at me. "Come on, Cam, give the girl a break. She's dying to get out there!"

Cam just shakes his head.

* * *

"I should get going," I stand up an hour later. "Missy made sweet potato pie tonight, can't miss that," I grin.

Mr. and Mrs. Fisher say goodbye, and Cam walks me outside. He shivers the second his feet hit the porch. "You didn't need to walk me out," I say.

Cam shrugs. "See you tomorrow?"

"Of course. I'll text you in the morning!" I turn and make my way down the snowy driveway. Cam's been quiet the past week and a half -quiet and pale. It worries me and makes me feel-

A snowball hits me on the back of the neck, sending pieces of snow down my back. I shriek and whirl around to find Cam doubled over laughing. "Not fair!" I roll a snowball with my bare hands and chuck it at him, but he easily dodges.

Before long, we're in a full on snowball fight. Neither of us are properly dressed. The war wages on for about twenty minutes, but then we're both lying side by side in the snow, panting.

"I won," Cam pants.

"You had an unfair advantage," I protest. I quickly roll over so I'm pinning him into the snow. I lift his sweater and shove a handful of snow onto his bare stomach. Cam laughs and squirms to escape me.

"Can you two stop having sex on the front lawn?" Harris calls. He walks from his car to the house, Massie clutching his arm so she doesn't fall in her high heels.

"Honestly," she huffs to Harris. "It's like they're stray cats. Cam is so _above _that, you know?"

"Well, I was just kidding," I hear Harris say as they go into the house. "But okay."

"Meow," I claw playfully at Cam.

He tries to make a purring sound but chokes and starts coughing and laughing at the same time. "You're an idiot," I laugh and help him up. "Now get into the house and get your mom to make you a cup of hot soup. Then get under the blankets and watch the Tuesday's episode of Pretty Little Liars so we can catch up. That's an order."

"Aye aye, captain," he grins. "I'll talk to you later."

On my walk home, I receive a picture message from Cam. A selfie of him lying on the couch, covered with a blanket and holding a steaming mug. 'PLL in 5 -waiting for mom' it says. I smile to myself as I dial Derrick's number.

"Hey," he answers on the first ring.

"I need your help," I say. "I want to get Cam something really, really good for Christmas, but I have no idea what."

"You know Cam better than I do," Derrick sounds confused.

"But you're a boy," I insist. "Last year I got him a three feet tall gummy bear."

"What?! They make those? Did he eat it? It was _three feet tall_? Where did you get-"

"You're starting to sound like Sammi," I laugh. "Come on, you owe me. I helped you pick a present for her."

"Why don't you make him something? It's sentimental."

"I'm already making him a scrapbook. Actually, I could use some help with that? Do you want to come over tonight? I can also help you with that book report. And Missy made pie!"

"Pie?" Derrick hesitates. "Fine. But only for the pie."

* * *

"So I don't know what I was thinking, I've never scrapbooked before. I thought it was just gluing pictures onto paper, but I looked it up online. It's intense." Derrick and I are sitting on my bedroom floor, craft supplies and shoe boxes full of pictures surrounding us.

"This is really good pie," Derrick mumbles with a mouth full of pie.

"Derrick, help."

"I've never scrapbooked either! I'm just as lost as you are. I think you should've gotten him a gummy bear again. That's-"

"No," I interrupt. "It's just...like this is probably his last Christmas," I say quietly. "I want it to be really special for him."

"Of course," Derrick says immediately. "Right. Okay, so let's do this." He picks up a stack of pictures and looks through them. "I like this one," he hands me one of me and Cam taken last year after soccer finals. He's sweaty and has mud on his face, but still looks great.

"I do too," I say softly, putting it in the pile of pictures we're using. "And this one," I pass a picture his way. "We went to a Blink 182 cover band because the real band had broken up. How sad is that," I laugh.

"Blink 182?" Derrick looks at me blankly.

"You don't know who they are?" I crinkle my eyebrows. I grab my iPod and play one of my favourite songs. "That's it!" an idea hits me. "I can make Cam a playlist -of songs we both love, or ones I've been listening to to get me in a better mood."

Derrick grins. "So no scrapbooking?"

"No, I still want to do it too. And what the hell, I'll get him a three feet tall gummy bear too. What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"

"What did you have in mind?" Derrick asks.

"Wanna drive me into the city?" I smile sweetly.

Derrick laughs. "An hour long car ride with you? Wouldn't miss it."

* * *

I'm about to meet Derrick at his car when Harris stops me in the hallway.

"Hey," he says timidly. We haven't really spoken since that night on the balcony a few weeks ago. "How are you?"

"Good," I study him. He looks tired. For a second he looks so much like Cam that I want to take him in my arms and promise that everything will be okay, the way I'd do with Cam. "You?"

"You know," he shrugs. "I was just wondering what you were doing. Want to get a coffee and talk or something?"

"I have to go into the city," I say, feeling bad. He looks so dejected. "Isn't Massie around?"

"Ha," he laughs softly but bitterly. "I was hoping to talk about something other than her new highlights that I didn't compliment her on. Another time, then. Have fun."

I watch him walk to his car while I walk to Derrick's. "Everything alright?" Derrick asks as I slide into the passenger seat.

"Yeah."

"Look, I know I'm not Cam," Derrick fiddles with his keys, "But...you can talk to me, you know."

I feel touched. I shoot him a tiny smile. "I know."

* * *

Derrick and I talk the entire way into the city. I don't know how we found so much to talk about, but we did. We tell each other literally everything. Why I love Blink 182 so much, how he got the tiny scar above his left eyebrow, what our plans for the future are.

"I mean, I should have decided by now what I'm going to do with my life," Derrick says. "But I still have no idea. My parents seem to think that it's ridiculous that I don't have my life planned at the age of sixteen."

"Tell me about it," I roll my eyes. "But whatever I do, I'm doing it at Yale."

"Why Yale?"

"It's my dream school. I've wanted to go there forever. It's just perfect -the old brick buildings covered in ivy, the New England preppiness, the fact that it's far enough away from my mother."

"Any backup plans?" Derrick asks.

"There's no need for backup plans, they just distract from the original plan."

Derrick grins at me. "I like that."

* * *

"Claire," Derrick says softly, gently shaking my shoulder. "Wake up, we're at your house."

"I fell asleep?" I mumble, rubbing my eyes. "I'm so sorry, you must have had such a dull drive back."

"Don't worry about it. Although, you should worry about the stuff you said in your sleep," he grins.

"What?! I don't talk in my sleep...do I?"

"I'm kidding. Hurry and get in the house so your mom's not pissed. I can help you bring in your things so I can explain that it's my fault you're past curfew."

"You're a lifesaver," I tell him gratefully. Derrick takes all of my stuff before I can grab anything. "I can carry something!"

"I'm good," Derrick says, already walking to the house. I follow him. My parents are both sitting in the formal living room, dad reading the newspaper and mom watching the Real Housewives of Orange County.

"Bear, I was starting to get worried!" Dad looks up and smiles. "Oh -hello! I'm Jay Lyons, Claire's father." He stands to shake Derrick's hand.

"Derrick Harrington. Sorry, Sir, completely my fault about Claire being late. We drove into the city to do some Christmas shopping, and I wasn't sure about the roads, so I drove a little slower than usual."

"Oh," my dad nods with approval. "Well, thank you for taking my little girl's safety into consideration."

"Dad," I mutter, embarrassed.

"You didn't think to call and let us know you'd be late?" My mom snaps, finally turning away from her show.

"Claire fell asleep on the drive home," Derrick says before I can snap anything back. "We've had quite the workload in school lately, I'm sure Claire is feeling as drained as I am. More, probably, seeing as she scored the highest on our Bio test."

"You didn't tell me that," mom raises her eyebrows at me.

"You didn't ask."

"Anyway, I think I've kept you all up long enough," Derrick shrugs apologetically. "I really am so sorry to cause you any worry. It was nice to meet you both, happy holidays."

"You too," my dad smiles. "Well, he's a gentleman," he turns to me once the door is shut.

"He really is," my mom stands. "Maybe hanging out with him will encourage you to-"

"Well, we should get to bed," my dad interrupts before mom and I can really get into the fight. "Goodnight, Bear," he kisses the top of my head. "Don't stay up much longer."

"I won't," I promise. "Night." I wander into the kitchen to get something to eat. Missy left a bowl of stir fry in the fridge with a Post-it with my name on it. I call Derrick while it's heating up.

"You are a god," I tell him. "My parents love you. Thank you."

"Thank _you,_" Derrick insists.

"For what?"

"I had fun tonight," he tells me.

"Me too," I find myself grinning. "We'll have to shop together more often."

He laughs. "Why aren't you in bed yet?"

"I was going to eat something." As if on cue, the microwave beeps, letting me know my food's ready. "But I'm not really hungry anymore."

"Eat, Claire."

"Who are you, Christian Grey?" I giggle.

"Don't tell me you've read those books," Derrick groans. "Claire, I thought you had more taste than that! I thought you appreciated books!"

"I wanted to know what all the fuss was about!"

"Well, were they any good?"

"They were _garbage_," I tell him. "I think I finally found something that's a worse love story than Twilight."

Derrick laughs. "Hey, those were good movies! I liked the third one."

"Oh, Derrick, don't tell people that."

"Oh, trust me, I know. I wait for girls to tell me what they like before I bring up my likes. Learned that the hard way."

"What happened?"

"Last year, I went on a date with this girl, we were getting to know each other and I told her how I loved Harry Potter, the books and the movies. She ended the date shortly after and then never returned my calls or texts."

"She didn't like Harry Potter?!" I ask, shocked. "You're talking to the wrong girls."

"Well _you _like Harry Potter," Derrick says. "So I guess now I'm talking to the right one."

* * *

"Claire!" my mom screeches over the intercom again. "It is seven forty-five, _you need to get up_!"

I roll myself out of bed and onto the floor. Derrick and I talked and talked and talked last night, and before I knew it, it was quarter to four in the morning. I'm not sure how I'm going to make it through school today.

My phone rings and vibrates off of my night table onto the floor beside me. Cam. "Morning," I answer.

"Morning! I figured I should find out our plans for the Black and Silver Ball in case you wanted to go with someone else."

"Cam, we've gone together every year since we were, like eleven. Why would I want to go with someone else?"

"Twelve, actually. That's when our moms agreed we should be bringing dates to club functions. And I don't know. I just thought maybe you'd want to go with someone else. Someone blonder."

"Like who?"

"I don't know, maybe _Derrick_? You're slow in the mornings."

"Cam, I'm going with _you. _I always go with you! Why would I go with Derrick?"

"If you're saying you'll go with me just because you feel bad for me, I'll be mad. I can get another date, you know. _Plenty _of dates, actually."

"I have no doubt," I get off the floor and walk into the bathroom. Ah, heated floors. I wish I could stand here all day, instead of suffering through school. "But you're _my _date because I _can't _get plenty of other dates. Besides, you're mine, I'm not letting all those other bitches sink their claws into you."

Cam laughs. "You have no idea how many dates you could get."

I attempt to pull a brush through my messy curls, but give up and throw it into a ponytail instead. "Massie and Harris going together?"

"I assume yes," Cam hesitates. "He, um, has he seemed down lately? Like at school?"

I think back to when I saw him yesterday. "Maybe, a little bit. I don't see him that often," I tell him as I button up a cardigan and wiggle into my jeans. "He'd wanted to talk to me yesterday, but I was going shopping. Maybe I'll corner him and talk to him today."

"Would you?"

"Anything for you," I promise. "I have to go though, I'm so late and mom's going to kill me."

Cam laughs, which makes me warm and giddy. I could listen to his laugh forever. "Alright. Come over later? I started watching the OC last night. How come we never watched it before? It's really good, I think you'd like it."

I giggle. "Sometimes you are such a girl."

* * *

"You look as tired as I feel," Derrick says behind me.

"Hey! Are you saying I look bad?"

One corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. "If the shoe fits."

"Almost left without shoes this morning," I laugh. "Only a week and a half to go, then we get two weeks off!"

"I have a golf meeting at lunch. Think you can manage without me?"

"Yeah," I scan the hallways for Harris. "I have to talk to Harris anyway."

"Watch out for Massie," Derrick warns.

I can't find Harris at lunch. Massie doesn't seem to know where he is either, as she keeps scanning the cafeteria and checking her phone and pouting at the empty seat to her left. His car's still in the parking lot, so he's probably around here somewhere.

Eventually I find him sitting in the stairwell to the basement. It smells down here, and it's damp and cold. "Hey," I sit on the stair above him. "What are you doing down _here_?"

"Just needed a breather," he mumbles.

I wrinkle my nose. "I don't think this is the best air to be breathing. Is that mold?"

Harris chuckles. "Probably."

"Are you alright?" I nudge him gently with the toe of my boot. "Sorry I couldn't talk yesterday. But I'm here now if you still want to?"

"Nah," he mutters. "But sit with me for a bit?"

"Sure," I say softly. So we sit like that for the entire lunch hour, not talking. The bell rings, meaning its the end of lunch. We both stand slowly, as if we're unsure of what to do next. I throw my arms around his waist and squeeze tightly. Harris inhales, his chest pressing into my cheek.

"Sorry," I mumble, letting go. "I just, well, I don't know. Sometimes it's just nice to have a hug, right?"

Harris laughs softly. "Right. Thanks, Claire."

* * *

"I like the theme song," I tell Cam later that day, referring to the OC. "The show is the same as any other mindless teen drama though."

"Claire, can you just be supportive? I like this show."

I smile and adjust his hat that's sliding over his eyes. "It's a great show, Cam. That's why it was cancelled after only four seasons."

"You're the worst," he mutters, clutching a pillow to his chest. In the past two weeks, there's been a very obvious change in my best friend. He's tired all the time, and doesn't have much of an appetite. I think he feels the change too. "I can't believe you're going to be seventeen next month," he yawns. "And there's only nineteen days of the year left."

I sigh and lie down beside him. "Getting old."

"My dad would kill you if he heard you say that."

"Your dad loves me."

"He does. Me too."

* * *

I wake up from a nightmare, feeling sick and sweaty. My hand immediately reaches for my phone and dials Cam's number, but there's no answer. Well, duh, it's two twenty-three in the morning. Without thinking, I dial Derrick's number. It rings and rings and rings, and I'm about to hang up but then I hear a groggy 'Hello?'

"Hi! Did I wake you?" I ask dumbly.

"Nope," Derrick murmurs, sounding a tad more awake.

"Liar."

He chuckles. "What's up? Why are you awake?"

"I had a bad dream," I mutter. "I just wanted to hear someone's voice."

"And you chose mine?" he murmurs sarcastically. "How sweet."

"You're cranky when you wake up."

"I'm cranky in general. Wanna do something?"

"It's two thirty in the morning, Derrick."

"Well _you_ woke me up," he points out. "I'm not going to be able to fall asleep again."

"What did you have in mind?" I ask warily. It's two thiry in the morning in December -there's nothing to do.

"Denny's is open all night. I could go for some pancakes."

"I'm more of a waffle person. But okay."

"Pick you up in ten."

Sure enough, nine minutes later, Derrick's truck rolls slowly into my driveway. I mean, _really _slowly. A snail could pass him. Instead of waiting for him to pull up to the front of the house, I quietly open the door and run down the driveway to his truck.

"Why are you going so slow?!" I ask, buckling up. Although, if Derrick drives to Denny's this slowly then I don't even need to wear a seatbelt.

"I was being sneaky! I don't want your parents to wake up and find me helping you sneak out at two thirty in the morning!"

"...You have a grey Range Rover, Derrick. It isn't exactly an inconspicuous vehicle."

"It's grey," he mutters, resuming a normal speed once we're on the road. "Grey is pretty much camouflage at night."

"No. It's not," I laugh. "Thank you for trying though."

Once we're seated and waiting for our food at Denny's, our conversation turns to the upcoming Black and Silver Ball. "You and Cam going together again?" Derrick asks, taking a sip of his steaming coffee.

"Yeah," I say. "We've gone together since we were twelve."

"I know," Derrick pours more sugar into his cup and stirs it. "I've been there every year, I've seen you guys."

"Right," I say awkwardly. Sometimes I forget that Derrick has been in my life since kindergarten -the past twelve years-, but has only really been _in _my life the past few months. "You took Massie last year."

"And the year before that," he rolls his eyes. "Our moms are good friends. But I guess Harris has that burden this year..."

"So who are you taking?"

"I don't know," Derrick fiddles with his cutlery. "Massie, Dylan, and Alicia have tried to excommunicate me from that group since I left them all for you," he shrugs. "I don't know how any of the other girls feel about that."

"Sorry."

"I like hanging out with you," he half smiles. "A _lot _more than I liked hanging out with Massie Block. I like her and everything, sometimes, but you can only talk about shopping and lip gloss for so long."

"She does wear a lot of lip gloss."

"Right? They all smell really sweet, too. But, like, fake sweet."

"Like her personality," I grin.

Derrick laughs. "I guess so. She's the only one who has a problem with our friendship. The guys don't care. Dylan and Alicia wouldn't care if Massie didn't."

"Well, screw them. I wouldn't want any of them to be your date anyway. They don't deserve it."

"Maybe I won't even go," he sighs.

"Derrick, your mother won't allow you to miss this. Trust me."

"I wish I could just take Sammi."

"You're disgusting," I giggle.

"Not like _that_," he kicks me gently under the table. "She'd be easy to have fun with. I hate you, you know," he adds because I'm still giggling.

"You don't," I smirk.

He smiles back. "I don't."


	12. Chapter 12

your feedback is all so sweet! thanks guys!  
ps if there are any fic exchanges coming up, let me know! i'm itching to write a oneshot but have no inspiration, and i always seem to miss these things!

* * *

"I have a date!"

It's a week later and Derrick and I are walking to our lockers after last period. "What? Who!?"

"Olivia Ryan," he grins.

Olivia Ryan. She was born in London but grew up in Paris (though she refers to it as _Ile-de-France _because 'Paris' is "too pretentious") but moved to Westchester with her mom when her parents split up. She's worldly in a way that no one at Briarwood can even wish to be. She's also _stunning. _Rumours float around about how she modeled for French _Vogue _when she lived there, but she's never confirmed nor denied them because she keeps to herself.

The second week of eighth grade, when she transfered to Briarwood, Massie and the Minions tried to recruit her. She turned them down and they've hated her ever since. At least we have one thing in common.

"Claire? What do you think?"

"Oh! Right. Um, wow, congrats!"

"The only thing is, she wasn't going to go until I'd asked her because of her lack of friends," Derrick shuffles his feet. "And I said 'hey, my friend Claire has no friends eithe'-"

"Derrick! I have friends!"

"Let me finish my story! Anyway, as I was saying before I got interrupted -I told her you had no friends either and she said 'Claire Lyons? The girl with the nice hair?'-"

"She said I have nice hair? Really? Are you lying?" Olivia Ryan has the nicest hair anyone's ever seen. Cam referred to her as Rapunzel all last year.

"Will you stop interrupting?!"

"Fine, go on."

"_Anyway. _I said 'yeah, she's got nice hair' and Olivia asked if you were the girl Massie hated so much, and I said yeah. Then she said 'I like the sound of her. I'll book us an appointment to get our nails done for the ball on Friday'-"

"What?! Derrick, that's weird. She sounds nice but I don't do socializing. Especially with the prettiest girl in Westchester, if not the world. I can hardly keep up a conversation with Harris and I've known him for years!"

"Harris is a boy, he doesn't talk. Come on, Claire, you need a girlfriend!"

"I have you," I bat my eyelashes at him.

"Hate you. Anyway. You're going. Cam and I will be at the Ruckers down the street from the nail salon, and we will pick you both up after you're done and we'll all go for dinner somewhere."

"I don't like this."

"Cam and I do!"

"You spoke to Cam about it?!"

"I needed someone on my side," Derrick defends. "Olivia hates Massie. You hate Massie. Massie hates you both. Look, you already have something in common!"

"I guess," I mumble. "It _was _nice of her to say I have nice hair."

"Olivia's really nice," Derrick informs me. "Promise you'll try to be nice back?"

"Fine."

* * *

Friday rolls around and after school Olivia and I are in the backseat of Derrick's Rover, off to pick up Cam.

"So," Olivia says, filling the awkward silence. I have never spoken to her once before, never been this close to her. I was hoping maybe up close she'd be a lot less pretty, like most people.

Up close she's even prettier.

"This is my first time attending the ball, maybe you could fill me in on the proper ettiquette? I've been to the country club before, but never to one of its fancier events."

"I may not be the best to give you proper club ettiquette," I say sheepishly. "I have a habit of trying to piss off my mom, and that generally means not behaving at the club." I cringe inwardly at swearing -even a minor swear word like piss- in front of Olivia. She seems very elegant and classy, the kind of girl who would never swear aloud.

"Oh," she grins, exposing perfect pearly whites. "I like to piss off my mom too. This should be fun."

"Hey, Olivia!" Cam says, getting into the car.

"Cameron!" She squeals, throwing her arms around him from the back of the car. "I'm so sorry I haven't visited more -did you get my letters though?"

"Of course!" he smiles. "I have them all saved in a shoe box!"

"I send letters rather than text or email," Olivia explains, catching my confusion. "I text too, of course, but letters are just more personal and sentimental."

But my confusion isn't over why she'd send letters -because she's right, it is more personal-, I was wondering how she and Cam were such good friends. Like I said, she keeps to herself at school, preferring to sit alone and read during lunch, and I never see her out on the weekends. And I don't ever remember a time when Cam and her have talked. They smile at each other in the hall, but Cam smiled at everyone.

I take out my phone and text him from the back seat. Not very personal or sentimental, but it'll have to do.

**claire**: how do you and olivia know each other?

Cam's phone vibrates. He shoots me an amused smile when he sees the text is from me.

**cam**: we met the library last summer. when you and your dad were in prague. we became fairly good friends. still meet up at the library from time to time. i like her, she's nice

Well that explains that. Olivia does seem nice enough. Nice in a genuine way, not a phony, Massie Block way. Maybe she won't be so bad.

"We'll be at Ruckers," Derrick says, parking in front of the nail salon. "See you in an hour?"

"Dude, let's play ski ball first. I'm great at ski ball. Oh, think they'll have Chinese finger cuffs as a prize? Last time I was here I won enough tickets in ski ball to get this giant raptor lamp, it's sick," Cam says as he and Derrick take off down the street.

"They're like children," Olivia laughs, watching them go. The smell of fake peppermint and nail polish remover hits me the second we step into the salon. "So," Olivia says, settling into one of the chairs. "What colour is your dress? Black or silver? They don't leave you with many options, do they?" she smiles.

"It seems worse every year -there are only so many black or silver dresses in this world. Last year Kendra Block wore the same dress as someone and had a total meltdown. Like mother like daughter," I laugh.

"Too bad we didn't know what Massie's dress looked like, we could get copies of it!" Olivia laughs too.

"My dress is silver," I tell her. "Always silver. When I started getting to pick my own dresses for these things, I was eight. My dad told me silver made my eyes look pretty and I've worn it ever since."

"That's sweet," she smiles softly. "Are you close with your dad?"

"I used to be. But I grew up and he got busy with work. My mom and I don't get along at all, and it sort of drove a wedge between me and my dad."

"That's too bad," Olivia says sympathetically. "My dad's still in France. When my mom and I lived with him, we lived in the metropolitan area of Paris. I hated it."

"How could you ever hate living in downtown Paris?!"

Olivia shrugs her thin shoulders. "I just didn't want that. The crowded streets, the noise. We lived in a penthouse. I wanted a garden. And so did my dad. So when he and my mom divorced, he sold the penthouse and bought a vineyard."

"No way," I say. "A vineyard? That's so cool!"

"He has dogs too," her cerulean eyes light up. "Two -one yorkie and one giant shnauzer. They're both the sweetest things I've ever met. I spend most of my breaks with him."

"Are you going once school's out for Christmas break?"

"No," she deflates. "He's skiing in the Alps with his two business partners. He invited me to come, but it wouldn't be the same. I hope to move back to France when I graduate. Buy my own vineyard," she grins.

The bells above the door chime as Derrick and Cam walk in. "You two look like you're getting along well," Derrick says, taking Olivia's hand to help her up. "Your nails look nice," he mumbles.

"Why, thank you," she smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling. Cam shoots me a look, silently asking if I'm jealous. I roll my eyes.

"Let's go get something to eat," I say, leading everyone out of the salon. "I'm starved."

* * *

"Claire, are you ready?" I hear my mom shout, pounding on my bathroom door.

I take a deep breath in the mirror, smooth out the bodice of my dress, and put one last bobby pin into my updo, just to be safe. I open the door, and to my surprise, my mom actually looks impressed.

"You look beautiful," she says. "What earrings are you going to wear?"

"I was just going to wear those pearl studs -the ones we got in Hawaii last year."

Mom frowns. "No. Here, I have some gorgeous sapphire drop earrings. They'll match your eyes." I follow her into her massive walk in closet. She browses through some drawers in her jewellery armoire before producing two pear-shaped sapphires surrounded by tiny diamonds. "Go on," she hands them to me.

I put them in and gaze into the mirror. Just as mom predicted, they're almost the exact same shade of blue as my eyes. Mom's face appears behind mine in the mirror. "You look so..." she trails off. "I don't know when you became such a beautiful young woman."

"What was that, Judy?" Dad shouts from somewhere in the room.

"Just talking to Claire," Mom calls back. "Come, let's show you off to your dad."

Dad whistles when he sees me. "Well," he says. "You look incredible, Bear," he kisses me on the forehead. "The earrings are a nice touch. They match your eyes."

"That's what mom said," I shoot her a tentative smile. She smiles softly back at me.

"Is Cameron picking you up, or are you coming with us?" she asks, spritzing her neck with perfume.

"Cam should be here any second," I tell them. "With Derrick, and his date."

Mom frowns. "Does he have a girlfriend? What a shame, I was hoping you two would start something. He's so polite."

"He's a real charmer," I murmur, the warmth from our almost loving moment fading. "You guys go, I'll see you there."

"Alright," Dad says, adjusting his cuff links. "We'll see you there. Behave tonight."

"Please," Mom begs, following dad out the door. "No shenanigans tonight. Please."

Five minutes later, Derrick's truck pulls up. Cam comes to get me at the door. "You could've waited in the car," I tell him.

"I'm being a gentleman," he smirks. "Take off the coat, I want to see the dress!"

"I'm cold," I stick out my tongue. "Let's go!"

* * *

The ball is the same as it is every year. Twinkly lights strung tastefully throughout the room, Christmas trees arranged around the room, and women clustered in groups gossiping while their husbands drink at the bar.

"It looks beautiful in here!" Olivia breathes. She hands our coat to the guy working coat check and gives him a dazzling smile. "Thank you."

She looks perfect -of course- in a slim-fitting black dress. Her blonde waves are pinned to one side and her red lips stretch into a smile, making her look even more beautiful. "Let's dance, Derrick!"

"We have to make our round first," he explains. "You know, say hi to everyone we hate. Then let's get our pictures taken. Then we can dance before dinner."

"Sounds perfect," she takes his hand and drags him out into the crowd.

Cam inhales sharply when he sees me. "Holy, Claire," he murmurs. "You look beautiful."

"So I've been told," I grin. "Thank you. You look very handsome yourself. Let me fix this though." I adjust his silver bow tie. "There!"

"Thanks," he grins. "Well? Should we make our rounds?"

"Did you and Derrick make itineraries or something?" I laugh, putting my hand in the crook of his arm. We make our rounds, talking to my parents, Massie's parents, his parents.

"Look at you two!" Mrs. Fisher exclaims. "Goodness, I almost didn't recognize either of you. You look so grown up," she looks at Mr. Fisher, "When did that happen?"

"Have you guys seen Harris or Massie yet?" he asks us. "They're around here somewhere. I like that watch in the silent auction," he elbows Cam. "Let him know. You guys feel free to bid on that."

Cam laughs. "We'll see you guys later."

Unfortunately, we run into Massie and Derrick. "Cammie!" she shrieks. "You look _so _handsome! Of course, not as handsome as Harris," she kisses Harris loudly on the lips. "Claire, you look..." her eyes sweep my dress, "Nice," she tosses out, as if it's an insult.

Which, of course, it is.

"I think you look _very _nice," Harris says evenly, eyes on the our shoes.

"Well-" Massie starts, but Harris interrupts. "You look beautiful, Claire. You too, little brother. But we have to go get our pictures taken, see you later." He drags a very angry looking Massie to the photo room.

"Did that just happen?" Cam laughs. "Guess he got tired of mom and dad calling him whipped."

The ball goes on as it usually does. Cam got chicken and I got pasta for dinner, and we trade bites, much to the dismay of my mother.

"Well," the emcee says, a slower song coming on. "After that delicious dinner, I expect a lot of dancing to go down tonight!"

Cam drags me onto the dance floor and wraps his arms around my waist. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and rest my cheek on his chest. "Remember when we took ballroom dance lessons?" I ask as we sway to the music.

"What are you talking about? I never took ballroom dance lessons."

I bring my head up to grin at him. Hats are a strict _no _at the club, but they let Cam wear his toque. "Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?" he asks.

"Yes. You didn't tell me I looked beautiful yesterday though. Or the day before. Am I ugly those days?"

"You're beautiful everyday," he smiles down at me, his multicoloured eyes crinkling. "I love you."

"Love you too," I respond after a moment, because I'm a little choked up. There are no words to describe how much I love Cam. He's been with me forever, through every little thing. It's like space, so great and big that it hurts your head to think about for more than a little while. That's how I love Cam.

The song ends and Cam squeezes me tight into his chest. "I could stay like this forever," he mumbles into my hair.

"Me too," I whisper. But we let go of each other and we separate. Cam's getting tired. He protests when I ask him, but I can tell.

"Excuse me," Kristen Gregory, a girl in my history class comes up to us. "I, um, Cam, I was wondering if I could have a dance? If you don't mind, Claire."

"Do you?" Cam asks me.

"Of course not, he's all yours!" I watch Cam lead her onto the dance floor and bow before the dance. I sit at an empty table, resisting the urge to shred a napkin with my fingernails. Don't make a mess.

Harris sits beside me. "Lost your date?"

"He's dancing. Lost yours?"

"She's putting on lip gloss or something. I fucking hate lip gloss, you know that? It's like kissing someone with cupcake flavoured butter smeared across their lips. Plus, I think I'm in the dog house for complimenting you."

"You didn't have to."

"I meant it, though."

We're both silent, watching Cam twirl a giggly Kristen around on the dancefloor. "Does it make you sad?" Harris asks, his eyes not leaving Cam.

"When am I ever going to see him in a tux again?" I murmur.

"Yeah. I know." Harris swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "That's exactly what I was thinking earlier."

"You can talk to me more, if you wanted..." I trail off. "I won't bite. If you and I can't talk to each other...who can we talk to?"

Breathe by Angels and Airwaves comes on. Harris looks around the room for Massie, before glancing at me. "You wanna dance?"

"This is kind of a slow song."

"You've slow-danced with a boy before," Harris rolls his eyes. "I'm no different. Didn't you and Cam take ballroom dance lessons?"

I half smile, following him onto the dancefloor. "Remind him of that," I say as we start to dance. "He doesn't seem to remember it."

"Are you excited for Christmas?"

"I haven't been excited for anything in a long time," I sigh. "Everything I do, I just...I have this sense of dread. Like I can't be excited for Christmas because I keep thinking 'this could be my last Christmas with Cam'."

"I know," Harris pulls me a little closer. "I can't say everything will be okay...but worrying won't stop bad stuff from happening. It'll just make you not enjoy the good things."

"Deep."

"Like space," he half smiles at me and I find myself smiling back.

Another Black and Silver Ball has come and gone. Most fathers are trashed, quite a few minors are as well. People trickle out of the club, oohing and ahhing over the items won in the silent auction.

Harris and Massie drive Cam and I back to the Fisher estate. I lean on him while we walk to the house, my feet sore from the dancing and heels.

"Look at us, staggering home after midnight," he whispers in my ear. "We're pretty much a Blink 182 song."

I laugh. "Glad you can still make jokes, Fisher. I'm exhausted. Surprised I'm even forming proper sentences."

"Take your makeup off before you go to sleep."

"Yes, Mom," I roll my eyes at him.

"We should all sleep in the basement," Harris says.

Cam looks in between Massie and I. "I...I don't know that that's a good idea."

"Come on, it'll be fun. We can make a fort, drag in some mattresses from the spare rooms!"

I think of what Harris and I talked about at the ball. I spend so much time with Cam. Harris, although they live together, doesn't really spend a lot. "I'm in," I say, raising my eyebrows at Massie. "You coming, Mass?"

"I...guess so, yeah," she mutters. "I'm going to get changed."

Harris and I drag some mattresses from the spare rooms down to the basement. "Thanks," he mumbles.

"Help me set up this fort."

The corner of his mouth turns up. "You're the boss."

We get a make-shift fort set up by the time Cam and Massie return. I wash off my makeup in Cam's ensuite and pull on one of his long sleeved shirts over my leggings. Cam's lying on one of the mattresses, staring up at the sports highlights on the TV.

"You look comfy," I snuggle in on the other side. Cam unfortunately took the outside of the mattress...so I'm going to have either Massie or Harris on my other side. I'm not sure which is worse.

Harris comes back downstairs, holding four mugs of hot chocolate. He hands one to Massie, who shakes her head. "I'd rather not drink my calories, thanks."

Harris sighs and puts her mug on the coffee table. Massie lies on the other side of the mattress, leaving the only spot beside me. Well, I guess Harris is better than Massie. It's going to be awkward, but at least Harris won't smother me with my pillow when I'm asleep.

"Let's watch the OC," Cam yawns.

"Only for you, man," Harris rolls his eyes.

Half an hour into it, Massie and Cam are asleep. I sneak peeks at Harris out of the corner of my eye from time to time to see if he's awake. He is. And he's watching the OC very intently.

"Stop staring at me, Lyons."

I blush and try not to grin. My gaze returns to the TV, where Summer is pressing Seth into the wall and kissing him. Summer kind of looks like Massie. One more reason to hate this show.

"It's an alright show. Don't tell anyone I said that."

"My lips are sealed."

"Why didn't you go to the ball with Derrick?"

"Cam's always my date," I shrug. "Derrick and I are friends."

"And you and Cam?"

"I don't...I can't really explain what Cam and I are to anyone who isn't Cam or me. You know when you just love someone so much that you can't physically be without them? And they become a piece of you? That's what Cam and I are."

"I don't know the feeling," he mutters, almost sadly. "But okay."

"Tell me the truth: do you really like Massie? Why are you with her?"

"I thought things were going to be different. I mean, we hooked up at a party and I didn't expect anything to come from it...but then she was all over me. And I'm not an asshole, I wasn't going to be like 'who cares if we hooked up, I'm never talking to you again'. Besides, she's funny and fun and sometimes a genuine person."

"'Sometimes'," I snort. "What a redeeming quality."

"Not everyone can be as saintly as Claire Lyons."

"Shut up," I mutter, rolling closer to Cam. "Night, Harris."


	13. Chapter 13

guys i feel like i'm on a roll with updates for the first time in my entire fanfiction career.

so like on a roll with updates for the first time in 6 years. awkward.

* * *

"Claire, no, I'm not letting you sit here with me all night. You have to go out, have fun! It's New Year's Eve!"

"I don't know how to have fun without you," I sulk. "If you're not going, I'm not going. We can stay in, watch some movies, drink hot chocolate with your parents. It'll be fun!"

Cam glares at me. "Don't be stubborn. I'll text Derrick and he'll make you go out. I want you to have fun!"

"I _will_ have fun, I love it here!"

"You two aren't really staying in tomorrow night, are you?" Harris walks into the living room, eating a bowl of leftover stuffing.

"I'm just not up to going out," Cam explains. "But Claire _is_, so she should go out."

"Dude, that's no fun. You're going to sit here and ring in the new year by yourself. "

"I won't ring it in by myself, mom and dad will be here."

"They're going to the club," Harris shakes his head. Suddenly, his eyes light up. "I know, let's just have a party here! That way you can disappear into your room if you get tired, but you can still party and see all your friends!"

"Mom and dad won't go for it," Cam protests. "Not after what happened at your birthday party last year. Someone broke the window, one of mom's vases, and several glass bottles."

Harris rolls his eyes. "That's why you suggest it to them."

"Mom and dad actually _like _me, I'm not screwing that up."

"Cam, sitting here all night alone is depressing. Have some fun," Harris pouts. "Besides, if Massie is in one of her moods, I know a bunch of hiding spots here. She won't be able to find me in my own house. Do it for your big brother. Please?"

"Fine," Cam reluctantly grins. "But if anything is broken, it's your fault."

* * *

I scan the crowded coffee shop for Derrick's messy blonde hair. He's sitting at a booth in the back corner, reading and sipping from a steaming mug. My heart squeezes a little when I see him. I feel like I haven't seen him in forever, but it's only been a little over a week. He'd been in Conneticut the past week and a half, spending Christmas with his grandparents.

Somewhere in the past few months, we'd grown very close. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering what it was like before we were friends. I can't even picture it.

"Derrick!"

"Hey!" he stands and gives me a big hug. "How was your Christmas?"

"It was alright. Christmas eve at the club, and then brunch there the next morning. Shouldn't the holidays be spent at home? How was Conneticut?"

Derrick grins. "It was good! Seeing my grandpa was great. We played video games mostly."

"Your grandpa plays video games?" I laugh.

"He kicks my ass in Call of Duty," Derrick laughs too. "Sammi loved the dream house we chose. Thank you."

I grin. "Good! Are your parents still in Conneticut?"

He nods. "Yeah and Sammi, for another week. But I came back early. I love my grandparents, but they'll be in bed by seven tomorrow night. Not a fun way to ring in the new year."

I laugh. "I'm going to get a coffee, I'll be right back."

When I return to our booth, there's a messily wrapped present with my name scribbled on it. "What's this?" I ask shyly. "I thought we agreed no gifts!"

Derrick grins. "Couldn't resist."

"Good," I take a tiny wrapped box out of purse and slide it across the table to him. "Neither could I."

* * *

"HAPPY NEW YEAR'S EVE!"

"Claire, come on, no one says that."

"I'm celebrating, Cam," I roll my eyes. "New Year's Eve is a holiday too."

Cam watches Harris hang up bundles of leaves throughout the living room and rolls his eyes. "Harris, first, that's holly, not mistletoe. Second, mistletoe is a Christmas thing, not a New Year's thing."

"Cam, first, shut up, and second, fuck off."

"Love you too, big brother," Cam chuckles. He turns to me and asks "Is Derrick coming tonight?"

"He is," I say, ignoring the look he's giving me. "And so is Olivia Ryan, so you can stop staring at me like that."

"Derrick likes Olivia?"

"Well, he asked her to the ball! And they've apparently been texting from time to time. Even though it's so impersonal," I giggle.

"Any guy in their right mind would ask Olivia Ryan to the ball though," Cam rolls his eyes. "I think he li-" he breaks off as Harris re-enters the room, talking loudly on the phone.

"I said I was sorry. I'm sorry. Well, then I don't know what you want me to say!" Harris shouts, leaning against the wall. "Don't come tonight then. Whatever." he hangs up and drops his phone in a vase full of poinsettias. "Can't hear you, phone's in the flowers," he mutters to it.

"Massie still pissed?" Cam asks.

"What'd you do?" If Harris found a new way of pissing Massie off, I might as well take notes.

"I got her the wrong pair of earrings for Christmas," Harris mutters, slumping on the couch beside Cam.

"You got her _jewellery_?" I'm shocked. "You guys have been together, what, a month?"

"A month and three weeks. And two days. Massie won't let me forget. And so? What's wrong with that?"

"That's just...kind of a serious gift," I shrug. "Something you give someone after a few months of dating, not a month and three weeks. How'd you get the wrong earrings?"

"She had a number of items on hold at Tiffany's, and told me the earrings she wanted from me were number four on the list. I wrote down number five on my shopping list. She's, uh, pretty pissed..." he trails off, as if he's just realizing how ridiculous the whole thing is.

I stare at him in disbelief. "I don't even know what to say to that. Except she is a thousand times more shallow and horrible than I thought."

"Yeah," Harris stands. "I'll be in one of my hiding spots tonight. Don't let her look for me."

* * *

By eight o'clock, the party is already crazy. Cam hasn't moved from the couch, but the grin hasn't moved from his face. People have stopped to chat all night, and I've hardly seen him myself. The music is loud, the drinks are flowing, and Harris's mistletoe is definitely being taken used.

I see Derrick making his way through the crowd of gyrating bodies. "Hey!" he shouts over the music. "You look nice!"

"Thank you!" I shout back. "Olivia here?"

"She's here?"

"I don't know, I was asking you!" I laugh.

"Sorry! Loud in here! Let's go talk somewhere quieter!"

I lead Derrick to the Fishers' library, which has always been my favourite room in their house. The fireplace is on and Harris is sitting in one of the club chairs, playing on a Nintendo DS.

"Harris? What are you doing in here?"

"I told you I would be hiding until Massie got drunk enough not to recognize me." His eyes land on Derrick. "Looking for a spot to hookup? Try the laundry room," he mutters, returning his attention to his game.

"Uh, no, we were just looking for somewhere to talk. It's loud out there," I explain lamely. "Massie's four shots in though."

"Great," he stands and snaps his DS shut. "I'll leave you two _alone _then," Harris walks out, but pauses in the doorway. "Don't touch my DS. I just got Jill to a new level in Cake Mania."

Derrick bursts laughing as soon as the door is shut. "Cake Mania? Sam plays that!"

I grin. "Harris is a softie at heart."

"He and Mass having problems?" Derrick sits on the chair Harris recently vacated.

I frown because Derrick referred to her as 'Mass', something Dylan and Alicia and Danny Robbins and all of his old friends do. "I guess. He bought her the wrong earrings for Christmas."

"He got her earrings? Already? Haven't they been dating a month?!"

"Right? I'm glad someone gets it," I sit on the chair across from him. "He didn't think it was weird."

Derrick shrugs. "Whatever. Let them work it out. Personally, I feel bad for Harris. He's damned no matter what, as long as he's with Massie Block."

We sit and chat for a little while longer. "Well," I say, standing and offering Derrick my hand to help him up. "Ready to rejoin the party? Maybe you can find Olivia," I wink.

"Shut up," he rolls his eyes but grins.

We find Olivia immediately. She's surrounded by a group of eager boys and girls trying to strike up a conversation with her. She sees us and her eyes light up. "Derrick! Claire! Sorry, I have business to attend to," she tells the crowd. "Thank God, someone fun to talk to," she murmurs once she gets close to us. "Claire, you look lovely! Remind me to give you my cell number later, we should get together agian soon," she smiles that dazzling smile at me and for a second I'm blinded by her white teeth.

"Yeah, of course!" I regain my composure. "I'm going to go sit with Cam for a bit, but I'll catch up with you two before midnight, okay?"

"Tell Cameron I'll come find him later!" Olivia says as she drags Derrick to go dance.

I squish into the spot beside Cam, who's chatting with Kemp Hurley. "Claire," Kemp winks at me in a way that makes me want to vomit. "Looking ravishing, as always."

"Kemp," I nod politely. Acting slimy, as always.

"Cam was just telling me the most fascinating story about you," Kemp leans across Cam, closer to me. "I think I'll have to get to know you better myself. Can't take Cam's word for it," he laughs.

"Dude," Cam says, squished into the couch because of Kemp. "Dude, you're squishing me. And we were talking about soccer."

"Another time," I tell him.

"Promise?"

"Well, no."

"It's a date then," Kemp leans back, his eyes already trained on a leggy brunette walking across the room. He quickly stands to follow her. "Excuse me."

"That guy is such a creep," I mutter.

"Yeah, but he's a good time. He's hilarious," Cam defends him. "So. You and Derrick. The library. What happened in there?"

"We walked in on Harris playing Cake Mania," I frown. "Cam, you've got to get him playing games appropriate for a seventeen year old boy. And then we talked. Derrick's off dancing with Olivia now."

"An hour and a half until midnight," Cam's eyes scan the room. His gaze lands on Massie and Harris, huddled in a corner talking. Well, Harris is talking. Massie is waving her arms around, spilling beer on the floor, and crying. Good. "Think they'll make up before then?"

"For Harris's sake, I hope not," I glare in their direction.

"They'll be each other's New Year's kiss, you know that."

"Who's gonna be yours? Since the list of options is _sooo _long," I tease.

"The list of options is _very _long. You know why? I'm Cam Fisher. Ladies _love _Cam Fisher."

"And which ladies are those?" I grin. "Not ones around here, that's for sure."

Cam's gaze returns to Harris and Massie. Massie has calmed down a little, but is still teary eyed. "Is it weird?" I ask. "You know, that you hooked up with Massie and now she's dating your brother?"

"Massie and I hooked up the summer after ninth grade," Cam shrugs. "And Harris hooks up with everyone. Everyone, Claire. No matter who I've been with, there's a fairly good chance she's been with my brother."

"That's disgusting," I laugh, wrinkling my nose.

"Cameron!" Olivia leans over the back of the couch, throwing her arms around Cam. "How are you, babe?"

"Great now," Cam grins. "Come sit!"

"I'll see you two in a bit," I say, letting Olivia slide into my spot. Everyone deserves their few minutes alone with Cam. Well, everyone except Massie Block.

"Claire!" Harris appears beside me. "How's Cam?"

"Good! He's talking with Olivia right now!"

"That lucky son of a bitch," Harris grins. "There's an hour until midnight, let's get drunk."

"I don't drink!"

"You do tonight, it's New Year's," Harris smirks, handing me a shot glass full of clear liquid. "Don't tell me you've never drank before, I know you and Cam broke into my dad's liquor cabinet on the yacht last summer."

I grin, caught. "I don't like hangovers."

"No one does. That's why resturants serve all day breakfast."

I take the shot from his hand and he clinks his against mine. "To the new year."

I grin back at him. "To the new year!"

* * *

"Cake Mania is just, it just...like when you start to play, you just, you feel this _need. _This _need _to help Jill run the bakery. She comes back from culinary school and her grandparents' bakery is just _closed_, you know?"

"One time I went to Starbucks at ten o'clock and it was closed."

"And that's why you gotta help Jill. Pay it forward, man."

Somewhere after our fourth shot, Olivia and Derrick joined us. The four of us are currently sitting, very drunk, on the floor of the kitchen, the party in full swing around us. Derrick brought up Cake Mania and Harris has been talking about it ever since.

"I don't usually like getting drunk off of American vodka," Olivia rolls her eyes. "I like Merlot. But you guys make it a good time."

Derrick wraps his arm around her shoulder. "So, man, what's it like dating Massie Block?" he asks Harris.

"She's a fucking nightmare," Harris widens his green eyes. "Dude, she's just...like she's always just...she's always _there._"

"Always where?"

"Always _here_! And over there! And down there! And behind that!" Harris waves his arms around, pointing to various areas. "_Everywhere_," he whispers. "Christ, I need another drink. Thinking about Massie gets me fucking tense."

Cam walks into the kitchen, holding an empty bowl. He stops, looking at the four of us on the floor. "Hey, guys...how's the party down there?"

"We're like The Littles!" I giggle. "Remember when your mom used to read that to us every night?"

Cam stares at me for a few second, then slowly grins. "Claire Lyons," he chuckles, shaking his head. "Are you _drunk_?"

"She's past drunk," Harris whispers. "She's wasted. She's a tank though, six shots and she hasn't puked or passed out."

"Cameron, sit with us!" Olivia cries.

"I just came in for more chips," Cam shakes the empty bowl. "I'm in the middle of a conversation with Alicia. I'll come back in a bit though."

"I love Cam," I say, watching him return to the living room. "Cam's just great, right?"

"Right!" Olivia nods.

"We're great too," Derrick looks to Harris for confirmation. "Right?"

"Hell fucking yeah!" Harris high fives him. "I don't know why I didn't like you, Harrington."

Derrick leans over and whispers something into Harris's ear. Harris nods. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

"Look at you two whispering like a couple girls!" Olivia laughs.

Shouting from the living room catches my attention. "Ten! Nine!"

"It's almost midnight!" I turn back to the three beside me.

Harris grins at me. "Four," he chants.

Three.

Two.

One.

"Happy new year!"

And then I find Derrick's lips against mine. Out of the corner of my eye I see Olivia grab Harris's face and smack her lips against his.

But I can't really focus on that because HELLO I'M KISSING DERRICK.

DERRICK'S KISSING ME.

I feel like this got confused and maybe it's the vodka but if I remember correctly, I thought Derrick was going to kiss Olivia at midnight, not me. And isn't Harris supposed to be kissing Massie Block?

Finally Derrick and I break apart. We both just sit there, on the Fishers' kitchen floor, staring at each other. I don't want to be the first to break eye contact, but I want to know what Harris and Olivia's reactions are. Judging from the slurping sounds, they haven't come up for air yet.

Ew.

Finally Derrick smirks. "Happy New Year."


	14. Chapter 14

hope all the canadians out there had a great canada day! and happy fourth of july to all the americans!

* * *

_January._

Dear Lord. Thank you for resturants that serve all day breakfast. Amen.

Olivia, Harris, Massie, Derrick, Cam, and I stumble out of the Fisher household at one this afternoon for breakfast at Denny's. I don't really know why Massie is being included. If I wasn't so hungover I would stab her with my fork.

"And I _told _Dylan not to hook up with Chris Plovert, but what does she do? She hooks up with Chris Plovert! Honestly, if her standards get any lower, I don't know that she can be a part of the Pretty Committee!" Massie complains to Harris.

Olivia laughs, then chokes on her orange juice. Massie glares at her. "I'm sorry, is something _funny_?"

"You guys call yourselves the Pretty Committee?" Olivia's eyes meet mine and I find myself trying not to laugh.

"Was anyone even _talking _to you?" Massie snaps before returning her attention to Harris. Olivia and I smile across the table at each other. I'm liking her more and more.

I woke up in the Fishers' library, having crawled there shortly after midnight to try and process what had just happened. I'm pretty sure I passed out the second I shut the door behind me though. No one has mentioned anything about kisses last night, so I'm beginning to wonder if I imagined it.

"Ducky, can you pass me the syrup?" Massie cooes to Harris.

"Ducky?" Cam asks, an amused grin lighting up his face.

"It's what she calls me," Harris mutters. "Not something we agreed upon."

Massie laughs. "Oh, Ducky, don't be silly."

Cam and I decide to walk around downtown for a bit after our meal. "So," I say, kicking snow out of my path with my boot. "Last night was pretty fun."

"It was," Cam agrees. "Anything..._cool _happen?" he fights a smirk.

"Cam! Don't laugh!"

But he laughs anyway. "Derrick told me this morning before you woke up. Told you."

"It doesn't mean anything, it was just a New Year's kiss. Right?"

"You tell me," he challenges.

"I don't know," I pout. "I don't want to say anything. Obviously he doesn't either, because he never spoke to me all morning."

"Maybe because Olivia was there, and she was his date to the ball."

"Well Olivia kissed Harris. So I don't think she cared."

"Wait, Harris and Olivia _kissed_?" Cam shakes his head and grins in disbelief. "That lucky son of a bitch."

I laugh, because that's what Harris said last night when Cam and Olivia were talking. "So what about you?" I elbow him. "Any New Year's kisses?"

Cam just grins. "You should _never _kiss and tell."

* * *

"Claire?" I hear my mom call as soon as I'm in the house. "We're in the parlour, darling, we have guests. Come join us."

Guests? They must be awfully important guests if my mom is referring to the formal living room as "the parlour" and is calling me darling. It's almost as if she forgot our almost bonding moment before the ball last month, because she's returned to being Momzilla.

My parents are sitting on one couch, Kendra and William Block on the other, and Massie Block in one of the arm chairs.

"We didn't expect you to be home," my dad stands and kisses me on the forehead. "Happy new year, Bear. You know the Blocks, of course."

I force a smile. "Of course, hello." Do I stay? I kind of just want to run up to my room and zone out watching Youtube videos with an enormous cup of coffee for a few hours.

"Sit. Have some tea with us," my mom nods towards the arm chair beside Massie.

"Uh, sure, thanks," I sink into the chair and pour myself a cup of tea. There are pastries on the table, but the thought of the after all the pancakes I'd scarfed down makes me feel sick.

"We were just talking about how fast you two grew up," Kendra says. She has the same sugary sweet voice as Massie's. "Gosh, it feels like just yesterday you two met at the club -remember Judy, we took them to the pool! In their little baby bathing suits, how sweet," she cooes, and mom nods, placing her hand on her heart.

We were like five months old and I'm fairly certain that they dumped us with the in-club nannying service before lounging by the pool, drinking countless Manhattans. Mom did that every year until I was six.

The doorbell rings, and mom yells for Missy to get it. Missy walks in, carrying another pot of tea, with Harris following behind her. His eyes widen when he sees Massie and her parents.

"Ducky!" Massie cries, jumping out of her seat. "How did you know I was here?" she throws her arms around his neck.

"Uh, Claire told me," his green eyes meet mine over Massie's head.

"Claire didn't know they were-"

"Yes I did," I cut my mom off. "Remember? Dad told me yesterday?" I pray that this had been a planned get together, rather than a spur of the moment thing.

My dad looks at me blankly for a second before nodding. "Right," he nods again. I wonder if he actually thinks we had this conversation or is just trying to diffuse a would be awkward situation.

"Come, join us for tea," Massie tugs his hand. "If that's alright, Mr. and Mrs. Lyons?"

"Of course," my mom waves him in. "Please, Harris, have a seat. How were your holidays?"

"They were alright," Harris says, somewhat nervously. He's heard the horror stories of my vicious mother. "I-"

"You should _see _the earrings he gave me," Massie interrupts. "They're a tad smaller than what I wanted, but they're beautiful still."

"So, Harris," my dad stirs his cup of tea. "You must be excited to graduate. Any plans for the future?"

"I am. I applied to the Yale School of Medicine. I want to be a doctor."

"I didn't know that," Massie crinkles her eyebrows.

"Yale's Claire's school!" My dad smiles. He loves to talk about Yale and me and how I'll do anything to get there.

"No way," Harris grins at me. "I mean, I applied to other schools, too," he tells my dad. "But I'm hoping Yale's the one."

"I was a Yalie," Mr. Block tells us. "Even sang in the choir."

"Daddy, that's lame," Massie pouts. "Harris doesn't want to hear-"

"I don't think choir's my first choice," Harris smiles. "If I get accepted I'm trying out for their sailing team."

"You sail?" My dad's eyes light up. Sailing is his absolute love. Probably his first love, but he can't admit that or mom would kill him. "Claire and I used to spend all of July sailing around Southampton."

"Then you started working all summer," I mutter under my breath. My mom must hear me because she narrows her eyes and subtly shakes her head.

"Boys and their sports," she fake laughs. Kendra joins in.

Maybe it's just the hangover, but I feel like I'm going to be sick.

* * *

Harris hangs around after the Blocks leave (much to Massie's dismay) to talk to my dad about sailing. My mom retires to the bathroom to take a lavender steam bath, Missy is busy cooking dinner, and dad and Harris are in dad's study talking boats, so I finally escape to my room.

I collapse face-first onto my bed, the duvet puffing up around me. Did the kiss last night _really _happen? I don't even know what to think.

My phone rings, and I answer it without checking who it is. "Hello?" I mumble into the duvet.

"Are you lying with your face in the blankets again?"

Cam. I smile into my bed before sitting up. "Sometimes it's scary how well you know me."

"I know. It definitely is. Have you and Derrick talked yet?"

"I left you an hour ago and then was ambushed into tea with my parents and the _Blocks_," I roll my eyes even though he can't see me. "I only just got into the safety of my room."

"School starts on Wednesday-"

"Why do you know when school starts and I don't?"

"Claire. Focus. You're going to have to talk to him there. You don't have other friends."

"I like to think Olivia and I are friends now."

"That's besides the point. Do you _like _Derrick?"

I hesitate. "No. Yes? I don't know! That's why I'm not going to school on Wednesday and I'm not ever getting changed out of these pajama pants and I'm not brushing my hair and I'm not leaving my room ever again and-" I break off at a knock on my door, then Harris pokes his head in. "I gotta go. Your brother is here."

"My brother? What? What's he doing in your room-"

I hang up. "Done chatting up my father?"

"We have a bromance now. It's nice," he steps into my room and shuts the door. "He's cool, your dad. He knows his stuff about boats." His looks around my room. "So, this is your room. Not exactly how I expected it."

"How'd you expect it?" I fold my legs up under me.

Harris shrugs. "Like Cam's. Posters and pictures and knick knacks everywhere."

"Mom makes me hide the knick knacks in the attic, and the pictures can only be in silver frames from Tiffany's."

"Your mom didn't seem that bad," Harris leans against the closed door. "But she probably is."

"She is," I confirm. "Uh, do you want to like, sit down?" I don't know how long he's planning on staying here. Or what he's doing here. This is awkward.

"Uh, yeah," he pulls out my desk chair and sits. "So...thanks for covering. You know, with Massie."

"With you kissing Olivia?" I ask. Oh wait. Oops now I feel dumb, he probably meant a few minutes ago, in the living room. "Um, I mean. Yeah. Sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up."

Harris looks uncomfortable. "I don't know what happened. I mean, I like Massie-"

"You're not allowed to say that in my room."

Harris grins. "_But, _she definitely has her...cons. You know?"

"Oh, _I _know."

He laughs which makes me smile. "Okay, you aren't the best person to discuss this with."

"I'm a little biased," I shrug. "Can't help it."

"It's just...Olivia was a New Year's kiss. You _have _to kiss someone at midnight, and she was the only one there. Well, you were too, but you were..um, busy."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Everyone says Harris and Cam are similar but I`m starting to not believe that. Cam and I can talk for hours and Harris and I always seem to fall into awkward silence within a few minutes.

"Do you...you know, like Derrick?" Harris asks. "Are we getting to personal now?"

"I don't know," I say to both questions. "That's what Cam and I were just discussing. I'm just...feelings are weird. I don't like them."

"Same here."

"Maybe I'll just stay in my room for the rest of my life. My bed's comfy."

"It looks comfy," Harris agrees.

Cue awkward silence.

"If bears can hibernate, why can't I?" I joke, then instantly regret it. Wow that was probably the lamest thing I could've said.

"This could be your hibernation station," Harris laughs.

"That was a good one," I giggle.

"I thought so. I'm poetic. I should go, I told my parents we could have a family dinner and they'll kill me if I'm late."

"I'll see you later."

* * *

I do hibernate for the last three days of Christmas break. It's nice. I've got Gossip Girl on DVD, some behind the scenes Blink 182 concert videos, and A Nightmare Before Christmas. Cam comes over a lot, bringing coffee and his mom's homemade gingerbread cookies.

But now I have to go back into the outside world.

I don't see Derrick by our lockers in the morning. He's not at the coffee bar, where he ususally is before first period, or in any of his morning classes.

To my surprise, Olivia Ryan asks me to sit with her at lunch. "I figured since Derrick's back in Conneticut, you could use someone to sit with," she walks with me to the cafeteria. "Besides, you're the one normal person at this school."

"Wait," I say, ignoring the almost compliment. "Derrick's in Conneticut? Why? He just got back from there."

"He didn't tell you?" her perfectly arched eyebrows crinkle. "His grandpa had a heart attack. He's alright, but he and his mom are going to make sure he really is."

"I hope Derrick's okay," I murmur. "He's really close with his grandpa. We haven't really talked since Saturday night."

"Since _Saturday_? It's Wednesday -I thought you two were quite good friends."

"We were. We _are. _But that kiss thing made _me _feel really awkward and confused and I don't know how he's feeling and we haven't talked so I guess I just never will."

"Call him, Claire. He was really shaken up about his grandpa."

"I should," I bite my lip. "I just don't want things to be weird, you know?"

"Put aside the awkwardness for right now. He probably really needs someone to take his mind off of things. I mean, he talked to me, but I'm no comparison to you."

I hold back a smirk because, let's face it, I'm definitely no comparison to Olivia Ryan. "I'm going to go call him," I say, standing up. "But, um, do you want to do something after school?" I feel awkward asking her, but I'm genuinely starting to like Olivia. And Derrick was right, I could use a girlfriend.

I call Derrick while walking to the bathroom, for privacy. He answers on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hi," I say softly. "It's Claire."

"I know, I have caller ID. Most phones do, you know."

I slowly grin. This isn't awkward. "I heard about your grandpa. Is he okay?"

"He's okay. My mom said this will make him actually act his age though, which sucks."

"What about you? Are you okay?"

Derrick takes a big breath. "Yeah. I am. Thanks, Claire."

Okay _now _it's kind of awkward. We talked about hsi grandpa, the main reason why I called. So we should probably talk about Saturday night now. Right?

Neither of us say anything.

The bell rings. "I should go, don't want to miss photography," I hesitate to hang up. Do I mention it? No? Yes?

"Yeah, of course," Derrick hesitates too. "I'm, um, I'll be back in town tomorrow, but not at school. Do you want to get a coffee after school and, like, talk or whatever?"

"Yeah! Yeah, sure. Coffee, tomorrow, talking," I babble. "It's a date!" I freeze. Definitely the wrong choice of words to say in this situation. "Gottagobye," I say in a rush, hanging up.

Yeah, not awkward at all.

* * *

I find Derrick in the back booth of the coffee shop, where I'd seen him only a few days ago. Everything has changed since then. I still get the little squeeze in my heart...but this time I'm wondering why.

"Hi!" I sit across from him. Does my voice sound too high pitched? Why am I stressing out about this?!

"Hey," he says. He looks tired. I want to reach over and hug him and not let go until everything's okay. "How was school?"

"School was good," I tap my fingers on the table. An awkward silence settles over us so I decide to just lay it all out. "Look, about Saturday-"

"Claire," he interrupts. "Right now, I don't think either of us are in the right place to be in a relationship. You know? I mean, I'm still a little freaked about my grandpa. And you have Cam to worry about..." Derrick trails off. "I don't really know how I feel right now. And frankly, it's not something I want to figure out at this moment. I just...I know we need each other as friends right now. Let's figure everything else out when things settle down."

"You just made everything in my head make sense," I say. "I wish I could've thought of something to actually say."

Derrick laughs. "So are we friends?"

"Of course," I tell him.

"And then later...?"

"Later, we'll see," I shrug, wondering how Derrick could've possible taken the jumbled mess of words and feelings in my head and made them make perfect sense.

Derrick nods. "We'll see."


End file.
